Even When It's Not
by JulyIdes
Summary: Jeffrey Woods is kind of a normal teenager. Okay, quit lying. Jeffrey Woods is not a normal teenager. He's kidnapped by Slenderman, works his way into a vicious and violent family, tries hard not to kill newbies (and oldies, since we're being honest) and, well, maybe he'll fall in love. Maybe. He's kind of busy being pushed into a midlife crisis-before he's eighteen. Seriously.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: All characters and other familiar things do not belong to me-their rights go to their respective owners. **

**A/N: Okay, so this is officially my first-ever fanfic. Whoop-whoop. Before you prospective readers dive in, I'd like to tell you a little bit about what I'm planning with this story so you can decide if you really want to read it. If you don't care about the rambling you can just skip all this. :3 **

**First, this is a Creepypasta fanfic. It will include Jeff the Killer, Laughing Jack, BEN, Eyeless Jack, Slenderman, etc. As such, because these are serial killers we're talking about, there will be violence. There will also be coarse language and potential gore. However, on the bright side, there will not be Mary Sues. Our guys will not be falling in love with any not-serial-killer-girls. They will, however, fall in love. Yes, yaoi. There won't be any smut, though. Snugglies and kisses, but not smut. The chapters should be fairly short and easy to read, Chapter One especially. So far I've written up to Chapter Five and they're all approximately a thousand to fifteen hundred words. I'm hoping to update at least once a week. Hm, other warnings...None that I can think of, but I'll warn you about anything besides the violence/language/yaoi at the top of whatever chapter it crops up in. Thanks for reading!**

**Chapter One: **In Which Jeffrey Woods is Fucking Kidnapped

Jeff was minding his own business when the monster caught him. Really, he was. Honest. Maybe he hadn't been three hours ago, when he made that couple in the blue house so very beautiful—but he was now. Just walking along, enjoying the autumn nighttime and the emptiness of the town. Little towns were the best—no, correction: rural areas were best, but little towns were second best. In little towns he could do his work and then enjoy the outdoors, since there were no people crowding the edges of town to spook at his face. He was alone and it was peaceful. Until the monster caught him. Then it was not so peaceful. It happened slowly, and then all at once.

So he was walking, right, on the edge of town where no one was, and then he thought there was someone. It wasn't that he _saw _anything, it was just that his lizard brain raised the hairs on the back of his neck and started slicking his palms with sweat. He glanced around him, across the buildings were people could hide, and across the woods where animals could. There was nothing there except what was normal, but his lizard brain insisted there was a threat present. He paused in his stride and stood, listening to the wind shuffle dead leaves and the distant sound of a single car engine. _There's something bad, _said his lizard brain.

_You're just paranoid, _Jeff replied, although he rubbed the handle of his knife where it was cuddled inside his hoodie pocket for comfort. _Even if there _was _something bad—we're badder than it could ever be. _Anddd _we talk to ourselves. Great, Jeff. I think it's time we put in for the night. _So Jeff started walking again, a little quicker, thinking of his nice, quiet shed downtown. He made it maybe half a mile before the paranoia turned into a chewing fear. His lizard brain was certain the threat was in the woods, but his rational mind told him humans were the threat, not animals. Still—his lizard brain was millions of years older than him, so who was he to challenge it?

He kept a constant eye on the trees, and another mile or so later he saw something. It was dark, but there was moonlight, so the flicker of black and white that caught his eye and made his lizard brain shriek could have been dismissed—but he wouldn't dismiss it. He just _knew, _he _knew, _there had to be something there. His lizard brain was right. _I'm sorry I doubted you, _he told it, stepping up into a light jog and sticking close to the houses. He thought about going beyond them, to the roads, but there were people there, and people—no, he couldn't do that. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

It was a third of mile (only another half mile to his shed, dammit) when the monster showed itself. It was just there all of a sudden, standing at the edge of the road, looking towards him—well, facing him. Jeff wasn't sure if it could look, considering it had no eyes. It was, to say honestly, one of the most terrifying things Jeff had ever seen. Maybe it was the lack of face, or the imposing height, or the way it stood, calmly, while he felt his own heart claw its way into his throat as though it sought refuge in his mouth.

So, in compliance to his lizard brain's demands, Jeff ran. Kind of. It was an odd run, because he was both trying to look forward so he didn't trip and look backwards to watch the monster-person-thing. As it turned out, he didn't need to look backwards, because it was in front of him and his face was intimately greeting its stomach—which was neither warm nor soft. He stumbled backwards, jerking his knife from his pocket and holding it in front of him like a crucifix towards a vampire. For whatever good that did. Yeah, absolutely none. His mouth started to taste like blood and _what a bitch, it couldn't have waited a little while? _Jeff swallowed it, but it leaked back over his tongue—it wasn't a pleasant thing, but it was in no way as horrible as the monster in front of him. Besides, the blood-in-the-mouth-thing had been happening for, like, a month. As long as he didn't start vomiting in the middle of his escape, Jeff thought he could live with it.

Spinning on his heel, Jeff bolted in the opposite direction. He got about three steps before his left leg was jerked out from under him and his face was heading for the ground—and then it wasn't, because he was being jerked into the air. The monster drew him back towards it, clutching his leg with a cold, shadowy tentacle and hoisting him high enough that his eyes were level with where Jeff thought its eyes should have been. Jeff snarled and lashed out at its face with his knife. His hand was caught by another tentacle and his knife pried out of his hand. "Mother_fucker_." Jeff tried to make his voice low and vicious, as though he were speaking to a victim, but it only sounded whiny. Blood dripped from his tongue and teeth as he thrashed and shouted at the monster, splattering on the ground. At least he wasn't swallowing it, so maybe he could avoid the puking part.

The monster didn't seem to give a shit about what Jeff did, holding him back away from its face to avoid his clawing fists and keeping its blank face towards him. It was more than unnerving, and it started to make him feel sick. Or maybe he was going to throw up whether he swallowed blood or not. He stilled his frantic motions, trying to settle his stomach to no avail whatsoever. The monster lowered him some, but didn't put him down, and he barfed. There wasn't much to spill except thin blood and stringy bile, but his stomach didn't seem to get the memo. It kept him heaving for about two minutes, his head craning backwards so the contents of his stomach wouldn't drop into his nose and hair, until he was lightheaded and gasping for breath. Even after the retching stopped, black dots danced in front of his vision and then his vision was gone and he followed it.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Alright, as most of us know, Halloween's coming up. For those who don't know: Halloween's coming up! In celebration and honor of our scary little holiday and scary little pastas, I've decided to have a week-of-Halloween upload. Every day, up 'til and including Halloween, one chapter of _Even When It's Not_ should be posted. Thanks for reading!**

**Chapter Two**: In Which Jeff Wakes Up and Meets Freaks

Having no eyelids was beneficial, in Jeff's opinion. For one, it made him look better—more honest, more like _himself—_and, in this particular case, he could see without anyone knowing he was seeing. He couldn't help the first change in his breathing or the way it made them glance at him, but he was careful not to move his eyes. Eventually they looked away from him and he cataloged as much as he could about their appearances and threat levels out of his peripheral vision. Neither of them was the monster—Jeff shuddered inwardly to recall it, but his body didn't feel injured. Yet. Then again, he hadn't moved at all, so the information could have been moot.

The two people watching him were sitting in plastic chairs near the door. They both had jeans and one had an oversized orange hoodie, while the other had a dark brown jacket. Orange had its hood pulled up, but Brown's face was exposed to Jeff's vision—if, in fact, Brown had had a face. Instead, Brown's face had a white mask shielding it and two dark gaps where its eyes should have been. The two of them spoke, quietly and cleanly (young—like, kids—male tone and Midwestern American accent, so Jeff hoped he wasn't far from the little town and his shed, but the Midwest was a big place), and—Jeff strained his ears because their voices were so low—they spoke about him. "—wake up?" Brown was asking, glancing over him.

Orange shrugged and copied Brown, allowing Jeff to see his face, which was a black mask that continued down his neck and into his hoodie. The only features it yielded to were two red slits for eyes and an equally red frown. "I dunno. Should be soon. What time is it?"

Brown pulled a phone out of his pocket and clicked it on. "Eleven forty-six."

Orange sighed and slid down further in his chair. "At least our turn's almost over."

"Yeah," Brown agreed. "D'you know what's for lunch?"

"Dunno." Orange shrugged again. They continued their conversation after that, but they talked about things and places and people Jeff didn't know. Jeff kept himself as still as possible through the entire thing, his mind spinning for an escape route. If the boys' turn was almost up, then they would leave soon, and the door would be open. On the negative side, they would probably be replaced, so if he tried to make his break then he would have more people to fight at once. On top of that, he didn't even know where he was or how he got here or—or anything, dammit. Well, they hadn't killed him, so maybe he was safe for a little while. He would just figure out what they wanted, and if he didn't like it—well, he was Jeff the Killer and they'd better watch out. Except for the monster. Jeff would avoid the monster.

At approximately twelve (anyway, Jeff assumed it was twelve, because that made the most sense) there was a knock on the door. Orange popped out of his chair and swung the door open, revealing another freakish person. This one was weirder than Orange and Brown, although in clothing style they didn't differ much. He was taller than Orange and Brown, but he wore a black zip-up hoodie. His skin looked like it was painted dark gray, and he, like the others, wore a mask. His was deep blue and had empty, dark holes where the eyes should have been, like Brown's, and a dark liquid trickled from them. "Hey," Orange greeted him.

"Hey," Black said. He sounded older than they were—older than Jeff, maybe—but still not an adult. "Slender said to wake him up." Black nodded towards Jeff and Jeff tried hard not to stiffen—but he really didn't want to be woken up. Not that he was _scared_, just that—well, he wasn't ready. That's all.

"Okay," Orange said, walking to Jeff's side and leaning over him. "Hey, you have to get up. Wake up." Orange jabbed him in the cheek. "Guy. Jeff. Whatever. You can sleep later. How are we supposed to know if he's awake?"

"He'll move or something," Brown said, appearing at Orange's side.

"Hurry," Black said.

Orange sighed and touched Jeff's eye with a single gloved finger. Jeff flinched and decided to give up the gig if the bastards were going to poke his eyes—he snarled at Orange and jerked away, sitting and nearly toppling off of the other side of the bed when his hand didn't land on a mattress. He caught himself and glowered at them, first Brown and Orange and then Black. They all looked back at him with their no-eyes.

"Hey," Orange offered. "Sorry about that. Good morning."

Jeff stared at him, taken aback by the pleasant greeting. "Morning?" he asked.

"Kind of afternoon. It's twelve. You slept a long time," Orange said, stepping away. "You're okay, though, now. You're safe."

Jeff scoffed. "Really? What about the monster?"

"Which one?" Black asked, his voice dry as desert dirt in a ditch. Jeff almost snorted at that alliteration.

"The black and white one. Really tall. Tentacles," Jeff said.

"His name's Slenderman," Black said. "And he wants to see you, so up and at 'em."

"What?" Jeff asked. "No way."

"He won't hurt you," Brown said, his voice softer even than it been when he was across the room.

"No, he won't," Orange seconded. "He just wants to talk."

"He fucking kidnapped me," Jeff snapped. "And he's not _human. _Is he?"

"No, he's Slenderman," Orange said. "And, I mean, I guess he did kidnap you. But not really. Where else did you have to go?"

"Home," Jeff said. "I had a shed. A very nice shed."

"Look," Black interrupted, crossing the room in a few long strides. "Slenderman wants to talk to you, so he'll talk to you. Maybe when he's done you won't have anymore questions. Now come on, before he gets upset."

Jeff sat for a few more seconds, debating his options, before he slid out of the bed, crossing his arms and glaring at Black. "Who are you, anyway?" he demanded.

"I'm Eyeless Jack. Those're Masky and Hoodie," Black said, nodding at the boys.

"Which one's which?" Jeff asked, looking over at Brown and Orange.

"I'm Hoodie," Orange said—in hindsight, Jeff considered, he _was _the one wearing the giant hoodie—"and that's Masky." Orange nodded at Brown, who lifted his hand in a small wave.

As Eyeless Jack led them to...somewhere, down a hall with slick carpet and zero windows, Jeff decided to ask, "Where are we, anyway?"

"America," Eyeless Jack said.

"More specifically."

"Can't get more specific than that at the moment."

And that was about the end of the information Jeff could pry from his companions. Shortly Eyeless Jack stopped in front of a glossy wooden door, and Jeff started to feel fear creep back into him—the fucking monster was behind that door—as Eyeless Jack knocked. There was no response, but a second later Eyeless Jack opened the door and led Jeff, Masky, and Hoodie inside to face the monster—_Slenderman,_ Jeff thought, shuddering.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**: In Which Jeff Talks to Slenderman (Kind of) and Makes a Decision

Slenderman was only slightly less terrifying in an office setting than he was at night. He sat in one of those spinny office chairs behind a wide, wooden desk, and he leaned forward and folded large white hands in front of him when Jeff and the others entered. He still didn't speak, but he motioned for them to sit in the chairs positioned in front of his desk. There were only two, one of which Eyeless Jack took. Masky and Hoodie slipped back out of Slenderman's office, leaving Jeff to sit in the second chair, focus on breathing, and glare at the floor.

"He says good morning," Eyeless Jack said.

"What?" Jeff asked, looking up at the eerie blue mask.

"He says good morning," Eyeless Jack repeated, his voice irritated and grating against Jeff. "He speaks telepathically, but he can't speak to you, because you're not his proxy."

"Proxy?"

"Shut up and listen," Eyeless Jack said. It was quiet for a moment, and then Jack continued, in a mellower voice, "He wants to know if you slept well, and he apologizes for your rough meeting. It's always like that."

Jeff grimaced and rubbed at the bottom of his (actually, not his. One he'd never seen before, but whatever. He was wearing it so it was his) t-shirt, because he was missing his hoodie and that in itself made him twitchy, but his knife, his baby, that was gone too. He was defenseless if he said the wrong thing. So, cautiously and politely, he said, "I slept well, thank you, and it's fine." Who said serial killers didn't have manners? His parents were good for some things. Annoying things—but Jeff guessed they were sometimes useful, when you were pretending—_lying—_to be part of a society.

"He says that's good," Eyeless Jack said, stretching back in his chair. "He would like to explain some things, if you'll listen. Then you're free to make your decision."

"Thank you," Jeff said, nodding.

"He says you're much politer now than you were last night."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Anyway. He says 'Welcome to my mansion. Anyone you see here is my proxy, and I would like to invite you to become one, Jeffrey Woods. You needn't make a decision right away. Allow me to explain. Proxies are my servants, yes, they carry out my work—but they are also my children. They are welcome in this home at any time, so long as they follow my rules. This house will provide safety, shelter, and care for you. You won't need to wander or go hungry ever again—and you can still kill. There will be schedules, of course, but I would never prevent you from doing as nature intended you.

"'I appreciate your talents. I've been watching you for a while. You've been sick, haven't you? The blood in your mouth? That is my sickness. I apologize. If you become my proxy it will vanish.'" The longer Slenderman spoke through Eyeless Jack, the tighter the furious fist around Jeff's ribs became. "'You will also be able to communicate directly with me. You will do jobs for me, and follow my orders—and in return, you will receive respect and a mansion.'" Fucking great. Jeff didn't fucking need a fucking mansion. "'A boy of your talents is worthy of this. If you say yes, you will be marked and become a proxy, like Jack and the others.'" Bastard. "'If you say no—Jeff, I don't say this to coerce you into a decision, but if you say no you won't live. You—'"

"Not coerce?" Jeff demanded, jerking his eyes up to Slenderman's face, feeling his fear momentarily squashed beneath the heavy body of anger. "You're fucking forcing me into this—you—you—how could I say no? You're _threatening _me. What if I don't wanna be your fucking proxy, huh? What if I just wanna be _mine_? _And_ alive?"

"He says, 'This is never possible,'" Eyeless recited, looking at the far wall. Or turning his head in that direction, anyway. Could he see? "'A person is never their own. They are firstly products of their parents, and of their families, and of their households and their teachings—being human is being something created by humanity. No matter how you fight it. I am sorry for this, but I offer you something better than what you've known. A higher purpose, a home, a carefree life—'"

"I don't want it," Jeff said, curling his hands around the arms of the chair. "I don't want this."

"'I know it must come as a shock. After being on your own—how long has it been, Jeff?'"

"Almost a year," Jeff said. "I'm _thirteen._ I had this all fucking planned out and now you're _ruining _it. Why did you even have to talk to me? Why couldn't you just leave me the fuck alone? I was doing _fine._"

"'You were doing well for a thirteen-year-old boy, Jeff, but you weren't doing well. I probably saved your life. Now look at what I offer you—and all you have to do is—'"

"Follow your orders? Like a fucking _dog_? No way, man. I—I belong to me."

"'Of course you do,'" Eyeless said. "'I won't own you. You'll still have free will, for the most part. You'll be my soldier. My child. I will take care of you, and you will take care of my jobs.'" _I don't need anyone to take care of me, _Jeff thought viciously. _I've been fine on my own, bastard. _"'This is fair. But you can have time to think about it. I will need your answer tonight.'" Eyeless's voice switched from monotone parroting and he said, "He wants me to tell you what it's like being a proxy. It's not bad. We're safe and—I mean, there are rules, but for the most part you're still your own. Better. More powerful. You'll have contacts and friends in high places, if you stay here. Anyway, it's better than the alternative. He doesn't _want _to kill you. It'd be a waste. Now we're dismissed. Come on and I'll introduce you to the others."

Jeff slunk out after Eyeless Jack, waiting until he pulled the office door shut behind him to hiss, "I don't fucking want to meet the others. Leave me alone."

"There's no point in being a child abou—"

"Fuck you. Leave me alone." Jeff stomped past him and back towards the room he'd woken in, pleased to find it unlocked. He slammed it behind him and searched for a lock, but there wasn't one. Throwing himself onto the bed, Jeff huffed into his pillows. Eyeless Jack wasn't old enough to call _him _a child. And at least children were honest and good—before the world _ruined _them. Adults were _always _trying to control you. Why couldn't he just be _him_? Why were there always laws and words and _lies _to make you into something you're not? Jeff kicked his feet against the mattress and groaned. He just wanted to wander, out in the quiet where he was alone and safe and independent. He didn't care if he was hungry sometimes, or cold or bored. Just as long as he could do what he wanted. And now this _bastard _wanted to tie him down, muzzle him and collar him and drag him around like a working dog. Well he _wasn't_. _He_, and thank you very much sir, was a wolf.

Jeff moped on the bed until there was a knock on the door. He ignored it, but it was pushed open anyway. "Hey, grumpy," Eyeless Jack said. "It's dinnertime."

"Fuck you," Jeff said.

"What's that? Get your mouth out of the pillow, idiot."

"Said _fuck you._"

"How eloquent. Dude, you're thirteen. Grow up and quit pouting. It is what it is. Now live with it or die."

Eyeless Jack left him alone after that, and Jeff fumed over the words until he thought about them—which, admittedly, he did take two hours to get around to. The advice was rough, but it was honest, and honesty was Jeff's policy. So Eyeless (even if he was an idiot) had a point. He could live, and see what became of him, or he could die and that was that. No matter how large his ego was, or how much he spit and snapped, it was fact. There were two choices. He just had to make one. Live or die?

Well, that was easy. Jeff didn't want to die. He needed to keep making people beautiful. And maybe it wouldn't be so bad. _Maybe._ Probably it would be, but who was he to give up? Jeff the Killer didn't give up. Jeff the Killer was beautiful and cunning and determined. Jeff smirked and stroked the wrinkles out of the pillow. Of course. If he didn't like Slenderman he'd weasel his way out of the deal. He was smart enough. He was the smartest. Smarter than adults and teens and kids and monsters. Why had he felt so powerless? He was never powerless. He was _Jeff_. So he made his decision, emboldened now, and went looking for Slenderman with an empty stomach and a saunter.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Five more days 'till Halloween, guys! So excited. The real plot of this kicks in at about Chapter Eleven, which I'm in the process of writing. Until then, we have a few more characters to introduce, so enjoy. Also, reviews are to me as cheesecake is to Masky and Hoodie, so please let me know if you have any questions or comments. Thanks! :3**

**Chapter Four:** In Which Jeff is Marked and Given Advice

Jeff thought Slenderman was pleased when he informed him of his decision, but he couldn't really tell—you know, what with the lack of face and everything. Slenderman motioned him to sit again and scribbled on a notepad before passing it to Jeff with one slim, white hand. _You have made a good decision, _it read. _You will now be marked. The process can be painful, although not overly so, and will place a permanent scar on your body. Afterwards you will be able to hear my thoughts in your head. It may hurt at first, but I will be quiet. _

"Okay," Jeff said, pushing the notepad back to Slenderman. He wasn't afraid of pain—not if it made him better. "What do I need to do?"

Slenderman scribbled again. _Go and lock the door. Then remove your shirt and stand here. When the marking is done I will speak to you._

Jeff did as Slenderman told him, shuffling apprehensively once his torso was bare. He'd never been shirtless in front of anyone but his family—and never after, you know, the incident. And definitely never in front of a monster. Slenderman rose and—his tentacles were back and this was getting creepy very quickly. Jeff braced himself as one thin, delicate tendril curled itself against the skin of his lower back and started to burn. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't agony. Air hissed out between his teeth and he clamped his mouth around any other sound. The pain lasted a good minute, until the smell of seared flesh reached Jeff's nose and made him want to gag. The last time he had smelled that he—okay, Jeff gagged. The tentacle retreated, vanishing into the shadows. He could still smell his own flesh, burning, and bile rose in his throat. He swallowed rapidly, trying to choke back the nausea, and his left hand trembled. Slenderman stared at him.

When he had reined in the damn memories and smothered them under _think of the present_ he was able to feel relief. "That's it?" he asked. He craned his neck around to look at his back. There, tucked against the skin, was a small, clean black mark. It was almost a full circle, but there was approximately an inch of clear skin between the two ends. Inside the almost-circle there was another mark, one that reminded Jeff of how little kids drew flying birds, like an upside-down, loopy W. This one was sideways, though. Before Jeff had a chance to observe his new mark more closely, he felt a pressure in his head.

"Hey hey hey," Jeff said, clutching his skull. "What's that? What are you doing? Are you doing that thing? Okay, just wait—wait a minute." Slenderman didn't wait a minute, and the pressure increased. It was _wrong, wrong, all wrong _to have that _thing _forcing itself into his mind. He tried to close it out but it pushed forward, spreading itself inside his mind, attaching itself like a parasite.

Jeff was so shut into his mind, trying to defend what was _him_ and what he didn't want the thing touching, he didn't notice he had sunken to the ground and hunched over himself until his forehead met the carpet. He didn't realize, either, that he was whimpering a litany of, "Stop, stop, stop, get out, stop, please," and that his left hand had resumed its shaking. Still, Slenderman didn't stop. Jeff didn't know how long it was, how long he buried himself in his mind and pleaded with the monster that burrowed into it, but when the pressure finally stopped his back was stiff, his body was hot and shivering, and Slenderman was sitting.

The sudden freedom in his head was like breathing after being shoved underwater and Jeff basked in the feeling until he felt a nudge in his mind. The fear must have shown on his face, because Slenderman shook his head. Whatever _that _meant. Jeff really hoped it meant the pressure wouldn't be back. The nudge came again and Jeff warily concentrated on it. At first it was wisps, impressions, and then words—yeah, those were words. One word, specifically, and one he was intimately familiar with. _Jeff_, the thing in his head said. It had a smooth, calm voice.

_Slenderman? _Jeff asked.

_Repeat that, _the thing said. _More forcefully. My mind is not accustomed to yours. Think loudly, if that makes sense. _

_Slenderman?_ Jeff tried to make his mental voice loud, a shout, and saw Slenderman nod.

_Yes, good, _Slenderman said. _You may get off the floor now. _

Jeff heaved himself away from the carpet and stretched. His spine popped and he groaned. _How long was it?_

_Loudly, Jeffrey. _

_How long was it? _Jeff shouted in his head.

Slenderman looked over at the wall and Jeff copied him. _Almost an hour. That's normal._

_It sucked. _

_Yes, it usually does. A mind isn't made for more than one. If you hadn't had the mark—well, it would have been much more unpleasant._

_So what now? _Jeff asked.

_Now you are my proxy. This is your home. You may go anywhere at anytime, except the others' rooms. Then you must knock. Don't antagonize them—Jeffrey, listen carefully to me. There are many rules here, but this is the most important. It will, hopefully, keep you alive. Everyone in this house is under my control, incoming proxies like yourself excluded. Even so, I cannot watch and control them all the time. In time, I'm sure you will find friends here. Humans were not made to be alone and I would not forbid you these relationships. _

_However, with these relationships you must be cautious. Perhaps the others will seem nice—indeed, perhaps they _are _nice. But you must never, _never—_Jeffrey, listen to me—forget who they are. They are murderers, maniacs, madmen. If you anger them I cannot promise your survival. I would ask that, for your part, if someone angers you—you may hurt, but you may not kill. If you anger someone, although I have given them this rule, they may not obey. They would readily kill you. _

_The society we have in the mansion is an old one. My children are like wolves. Our ranks are strong—and they must stay that way. The others—you, too, yes, you'll do this—will play with you, joke with you, be friendly with you. But they are always, _always, _watching for weakness. And if they find it, if you give them a chance to bite, there is no doubt in my mind that they will. If you give them an inch they will take far more than a mile—they will take everything they see. _

_Jeffrey, you may be friends with the others. But never show them weakness—it will make them feel unsafe, you understand. Weakness is threatening. Even species as advanced as humans understand this—and while the outside society tries to ignore it, here we do not. Never show weakness. Do you understand? _

_I understand, _Jeff said, nodding. He grinned—well, more than usual. _You don't have to worry. _I'll _be the one they need to watch out for. _

_I'm sure you will, _Slenderman said. Since the voice had little inflection, Jeff couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Jeff choose to believe he was serious.

After Jeff pulled on his shirt, Slenderman returned his knife, which had been filed away in the large safe behind the desk, and Jeff cuddled it to his chest. _Thank you, _he said, fondly rubbing the metal.

_Of course, _Slenderman said. _Your hoodie should be in the laundry pile—I believe it was Masky's night to sort that. You might go see him. And I'll tell him to give you a tour._

_Alright, _Jeff said. Masky did have his hoodie, which was incredibly white, and did show him around Slender Mansion with Hoodie. It was three stories tall. The top two stories were mostly bedrooms and bathrooms and storage rooms. The first floor had a foyer, a wide kitchen, a dining room with a ginormous table and at least fifteen chairs, a large living room with couches and bean bags and game stations and a flat screen TV, and a coffee room. The coffee room, Jeff decided, was his favorite. It was small and round, with a large bay window and balcony and a (nonalcoholic) bar with stools. Hoodie told him this was usually where everyone hung out in the morning or evening, but they'd be chased out if they talked too much. After the tour, Jeff retired to his room. It was only, like, nine, but his head hurt and he just wanted to think for a little while. He thought about a lot of things before he slept, and one of them was that maybe staying here wouldn't be so bad. It would be a nice life.

Hardee har har. Yeah right.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**: In Which Time Passes and Jeff is Mostly Unhappy

The years passed slowly, but when Jeff turned around and looked back at them he wondered where the hell they had all gone, and so quickly. The Mansion, for the most part, stayed the same, but the things inside it changed. New proxies came and went. Masky and Hoodie grew like little weeds—he discovered shortly after he joined them that they were twelve and thirteen, respectively, and now—well, what were they? Masky was sixteen and Hoodie was seventeen, he thought, but he really wasn't keeping track. He just knew how old _he _was and how weird he felt about turning into an adult soon. He'd had to buy a new hoodie a couple years ago—it was exactly the same as his old one, but it wasn't his old one. He kept that one stored in his closest now. Hoodie had finally grown into his orange hoodie and Masky had swapped out his old dark brown jacket for a new tan one. Eyeless had gained a couple inches so he could keep towering over them, but he refused to give up his hoodie, so it always pulled up around his wrists.

In addition to the growth of his friends—the only ones that remained at the Mansion through the years—their team was growing. This was not, in Jeff's opinion, a good thing. It used to be he would have a job at least once a month, often more, but now—now he was lucky to get one every couple months. And _now, _today, they had _another _damn newbie coming in. Jeff didn't see why Slender kept finding more—like they needed more. There weren't enough jobs for them all, and even the endless rooms of the Mansion were running out. Jeff didn't know what he would think if Slender kept bringing them in once they ran out of room. That wasn't the deal.

The deal had been: yes, Jeff, you will be able to kill when you need to. And he needed to more often than he could. The bloody desire would spark up about two days before the pain came—physical, in his stomach, and mental because he wasn't doing what he supposed to. Slender would usually hurry to give him a job when he complained about that—he'd know if Jeff lied, though—although Eyeless got priority, since, you know, he would starve if he didn't kill. And now the _newbies, _the fucking newbies they didn't need. Jeff'd show them. Didn't he always?

A real grin wormed its way beneath his permanent one. The years hadn't passed for nothing—no, he'd gotten much stronger and much better with his knife. And he always remembered Slender's advice—it had, as promised, kept him safe several times. So now, every time they had newbies, Jeff made sure they realized who was at the top of their (not including Slender) little hierarchy—Eyeless. And then him. Sometimes all it took was morbid threatening. Other times it took a confrontation with somebody else, and for somebody else it took a confrontation. Jeff didn't ever let a confrontation go without leaving his mark on his new housemate—small cuts, big cuts, it depended on how much he hated them in the moment. They always yielded after the first few fights.

Caught in the spin of his thoughts, it was almost absentmindedly that Jeff threw his knife at his door when it swung open, because bastards didn't enter his room without permission. He threw it off-center, and lightly, because he didn't want to kill the guy—but that shouldn't have concerned him, because the silhouette he was absolutely sure he saw vanished in a swirl of black smoke. With a grimace of surprise, he hopped off of his bed and glowered at BEN, who had flattened himself against the wall in front of Jeff's room. "What the hell trick was that?" Jeff demanded.

"I have no idea, seriously," BEN said. "It was the newbie."

Jeff made a show of sticking his head into the hallway and looking both directions. "Huh," he said, "that's funny. What newbie?"

"Laughing Jack," BEN said. "He can, um, well it looks like he can disappear. I didn't know either."

"Yeah, okay, BEN," Jeff sighed. "Knock first. What do you—"

"No, I swear, it wasn't me," BEN said, widening his eyes. "The guy opened your door. He's been doing that to all the doors, to say hi or whatever. He's weird."

"Is that right?" Jeff asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," a voice that was very much not-BEN's said, somewhere off to his side. Jeff did _not _jump a foot in the air, he just spun around so quickly his feet may or may not have left the ground for a couple seconds. In front of him, off to the side of his room, was a person who resembled Jeff. That was weird enough—white skin and ringed eyes, dark hair—but the person was smiling at him. Strangers didn't smile at Jeff unless they were angry—or he made them smile. They looked nicer when they smiled. But on a living person—it creeped him out. The person raised his hand in a sheepish wave. "Hey. I'm Laughing Jack."

"Fuck you," Jeff said, his (damn stupid) voice shriller than normal. "What the hell, man?"

"I didn't think you would throw a knife at me," Laughing Jack said.

"You don't just walk into people's rooms," Jeff snapped. "Didn't your mother teach you manners?" He'd hoped to hit a nerve, there, because more often than not Slender's proxies had sore spots about their family or lack of one. This one didn't seem to, because he hunched his shoulders but still grinned.

"No," he said. "Sorry. I just wanted to say hi."

"Yeah, okay, hi," Jeff said. "I'm Jeff, and Jeff doesn't like it—" Jeff stuck his face into Laughing Jack's and glared—the guy's eyes were white, now wasn't that dumb?—"when people barge into Jeff's room. Actually, Jeff just doesn't like people. So fuck off."

"But I'm not people," Laughing Jack protested.

"Jeff is talking in third person," BEN chipped in. "And it's scaring BEN."

"BEN better shut his face and take this guy on his tour," Jeff said. "Or Jeff is going to kill the guy _and _BEN."

"Okay. Hey, Laughing Jack, let's go. There's a whole 'nother floor."

"Uh, yeah. Okay. Bye, Jeff," Laughing Jack said, grinning and following on BEN's heels.

Jeff snorted, then called, "Hey, BEN, where's my knife?"

"Still in the wall," BEN said. Jeff retrieved it, rubbed its blade off with his shirt, and slid it back into its sheath—a handy little thing. He used to be friends with this mechanic killer-guy and he'd whipped Jeff up a sheath he could hook onto his belt, so he could carry his knife with him everywhere. It made him feel a lot more secure, knowing no idiot could touch his baby while he was gone.

Once he was satisfied that his knife was comfortable, Jeff sprawled back on his bed and resumed staring at the ceiling. When he grew tired of that—which was quickly—he sharpened his knife, and then headed downstairs. In the living room, Masky and Hoodie were curled together, masks off. "New guy already marked?" Jeff asked.

Hoodie looked over at him and nodded. "Yeah. You meet him?"

"Yeah," Jeff said. He settled down at the other end of the couch and propped his feet in their laps.

Hoodie scowled at him but Masky kept mild eyes and pinched Jeff's toes until Jeff gave up and tucked his feet under himself. He considered _not _giving in—a man's gotta keep his rank, you know, especially with a new guy around—but c'mon. Masky. He was about as threatening as a drowned and starving kitten. Jeff couldn't bring himself to be mean and Hoodie seemed to know that, too, because he wasn't looking worried. On the contrary, he yawned. Masky copied him a few seconds later and then Jeff's jaw popped when he followed suit. They were content to sit in companionable silence for the rest of a Spongebob episode.

BEN joined them somewhere near the middle of that episode, popped popcorn, and then stuffed himself between the Masky-Hoodie clump and Jeff. When Laughing Jack and Eyeless Jack entered the living room, stride for stride, they look at the couch and then BEN was setting up the floor with blankets and pillows. Jeff wasn't fond of the idea of laying on the floor, but BEN was convinced they needed to have a movie night and they needed to lay together on the floor. Jeff was sure this would lower his standing in the new guy's eyes, so he opted out and returned to his room. He dreamed about eyes that weren't there, and he woke to eyes that were—white and wide, hovering above his face, and the mouth beneath the eyes was speaking words Jeff hated.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:** In Which People Are Hurt

"Jeff—hey, somebody's hurt," Laughing Jack said. Jeff sat, pushing on Laughing Jack's stomach to get him to step away from the bed so Jeff could get off of it and reach for his baby where it rested on his desk.

"What? Turn the damn light on," Jeff said, squinting at Laughing Jack's pale face.

"Yeah, sorry," Laughing Jack said, stepping to the light switch. Yellow swept over the room and Jeff lowered his head as his eyes protested the sudden irritation. "Eyeless Jack said to get you."

"What for? Who's hurt?"

"I dunno what's his name," Laughing Jack said. "Tony?"

"Toby?" Jeff asked, furrowing his brow. "How the hell's he hurt?"

Laughing Jack hopped from foot to foot, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. "I dunno. Eyeless Jack just said—"

Jeff heaved a sigh. "Good enough reason, then." He snapped a quick glare at the newbie. "One of the only good enough reasons, bastard. Wake me up for anything less and I'll carve your face up, and then I'll string your insides outside for decoration—keep 'em connected and see how long you live with them cooking in the sun."

"Right, okay. Are we going?"

"Patience of a saint," Jeff growled, pushing past him to the open doorway. He could hear voices before he reached the living room—a familiar, worried hum. There were at least ten people clustered in the living room. BEN was standing by the TV with two of his friends, his ears set back with fear. Smiledog was laying just inside the foyer, staring towards the couch, where the majority of the people were crowded. Eyeless Jack was closest to the couch, keeping a small space between it, its occupant, and the others. The corners of his mouth were drawn back, his lips pressed into a thin line, and the black gunk from his eye sockets stretched to the bottom of his jaw. "Eyeless," Jeff called, pushing his way through the people, who yielded easily. Eyeless's face whipped around to him and there was a relieved twitch at the corner of his mouth.

"Jeff," Eyeless sighed. "Finally. It's Toby."

"Yeah," Jeff said, looking down at the couch. Toby was sprawled out on his back, eyes closed and mouth hanging open, ragged breaths rushing in and out of it. Blood clotted in his hair and on his skin and clothes—a lot of blood, Jeff realized, his jaw clenching and his left hand jerking. Too much? No, not yet, or Eyeless wouldn't be standing around. "What's wrong with him? Where's Slender?"

"A lot's wrong with him, and Slender's out. Again." Eyeless's eye sockets narrowed. "Whatever. We can deal with it on our own. If these _idiots—"_ Eyeless whirled around to face the small crowd—"would give us some room."

"We can't leave him," one of them protested. "He's our friend."

"He's probably scared to death," said another. "And you're not helping."

"Yeah, you're just standing around."

"Yeah, man, move if you're not going to do anything."

"Slender's not here to make us listen to you anymore, is he?"

"Hey, he's _blind_, isn't he? What the hell are we letting a blind guy operate for?"

"Enough," Jeff snarled, striking the nearest one across the face. The kid's head snapped to the side and he stumbled back. "Shut your fucking mouths and _get _the fuck _out_." The group of boys hesitated—cowards—and Jeff pushed his advantage. He snagged the next kid by the shirt collar and hauled him forward until their foreheads pressed together and he was sure the boy could feel the leather of his skin. He smiled, dropped his voice. "Did you _fucking _hear me?"

The boy kicked him in the shin. Jeff jerked his head and his free hand back, cracking his knuckles across the boy's jaw. He heard a distinct crack as the bones in the boy's neck protested and Jeff released his shirt. He hoped the boy'd have hell of whiplash. One of the others jumped at his back and Jeff felt fingers tangle in his t-shirt. He pulled his knife out and spun, slashing blindly. The second boy screeched and jumped back, clutching his face. The others began moving and Jeff felt a natural, savage instinct settle into his bones. He'd kill them all, the cocky asses.

"That's _enough_," Eyeless bellowed, grabbing Jeff's shoulder and freezing the small confrontation.

"Who says?" the boy Jeff backhanded demanded, worming his way to the front of the crowd.

"_I_ do," Eyeless said. "Slender put me in charge. When he gets back you'll have hell to pay if you don't listen—and especially if you kill each other or let Toby to die. So get your asses to bed."

"This bastard hit us—look't Josh's face," one of the others snapped.

"Yeah," Josh, the kid with the cut face, agreed.

"I'll make it much fucking worse," Jeff suggested.

"Yes, he will," Eyeless confirmed. "He's got full power to act and Slender'll acknowledge I gave it to him. Now go clean your face up and get to bed. I know you're worried—but that's no excuse to act like brats. Toby'll be fine. I've done hundreds of operations before."

"How many people survive your operations?" a boy grumbled, but Jeff could see their surrender in the sagging of their shoulders, the loosening of their eyes.

"Approximately eighty percent," Eyeless said. The boys looked rather unhappy with those odds. "He'll be fine. We've had worse. Now go. BEN, you and your friends too, and take the dog with you. Laughing Jack, do you remember where Masky and Hoodie's room is? Good. Go and get Hoodie, and Masky, if he wants to come along. Thank you." When everyone had dispersed, Eyeless Jack rubbed some of the black slime off onto his shirtsleeve and exhaled. "Man," he said.

"Mm," Jeff agreed. "Newbies suck."

"Too many of them at once," Eyeless said. "They're not assimilating well. Maybe we should talk to Slender. I mean, I've putting it off—it's not like anyone's died or anything, but the problem with a reactive society is that—well, it's reactive. Someone shouldn't have to die before we act but—think on it later. Help me with Toby."

After some debate, they moved Toby onto the floor, unwilling to carry him upstairs to the bedrooms. Most of his clothes had already been removed, but Jeff helped Eyeless strip off his bloody t-shirt and pants. Eyeless clicked unhappily when they saw the damage. "Bullet," he muttered.

There was a wide, gaping hole just underneath Toby's ribs on his right side. "At least it exited," Jeff said.

"Yeah. But there's another one in his leg I think might be lodged in the bone. Entry but no exit."

"That sucks."

"We'll work on this one first—Hoodie, hey," Eyeless said, looking over at the staircase, "come over here. It's Toby."

Hoodie knelt beside them, his face creasing in worry. "Shot?"

"Yeah," Jeff said.

"Alright, Jeff—you come hold him still. Hoodie, hand me things when I ask for them." Eyeless situated himself at Toby's right side. They placed a towel under him and then cleaned the wound—Eyeless said they could do more later, but the primary concern at this point was the bleeding. They sewed the wound up—Eyeless said they'd have to watch close for infection, but he didn't want to leave it open. Toby was still, for the most part, although he still occasionally twitched. As Eyeless worked, Jeff brushed Toby's hair away from his face, annoyed when it clung stubbornly to the skin. After placing a bandage with antibiotic ointment over the wound they flipped him onto his stomach. Toby remained unconscious and Jeff stuffed a pillow underneath him, for whatever good it might do.

Eyeless examined the small entry wound in the back of Toby's calf. "Yeah," he sighed, after a moment. "It's lodged in there. I'm not gonna try to take it out now, though. He shouldn't be up and walking for a little while anyways." They poured disinfectant into the wound before putting a butterfly bandage on it and rearranging Toby onto the couch. Hoodie and Jeff rubbed the filth off of his body while Eyeless packed up his instruments.

Toby was never conscious enough to speak clearly with them, although for the first hour he alternated mumbling and sleeping lightly. By the second hour he began sleeping soundly, and Eyeless sent Hoodie to bed but had Jeff sit vigil with him.

"I think," Eyeless said, still looking at Toby's face, soft as it was in sleep, "that we really need to talk to Slender."


	7. Chapter 7

**Short chapter and a cliff hanger. I'm sorry? I'll try to upload early tomorrow. Thanks for reading! :D**

**C****hapter Seven:** In Which There is Conversation and a Newbie

Jeff was against it at first. It seemed like a stupid thing to do. They'd never questioned Slender before, and he'd never led them wrong. So, as was his wont, Jeff protested. "Why? Slender didn't—I mean, this wasn't his fault. Toby was on a job," he said, shrugging halfheartedly. "Shit happens sometimes."

Eyeless's swiped angrily at his black slime. "It was a faulty job. Slender would never send us to work there if he knew they had guns."

"Maybe he didn't know."

"And that's the problem," Eyeless said, turning earnestly towards him. "He used to be so—so careful about it. He used to, you know, act a little bit concerned. And now all he cares about is more, more, more murderers for the Mansion. It's not fair-to us or the newbies. And I wanna know why. C'mon, don't you?"

"Well, yeah," Jeff said. "But it's not really our place—"

"I'm not saying we usurp him or anything," Eyeless said, scoffing. It he had eyes, Jeff bet they would have been rolling. "I just feel like maybe he'll think this all through a little better if we talk to him, especially since Toby's like this."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Jeff muttered. "I wouldn't listen if I was him."

"Well, no," Eyeless said. "You're Jeff. I think Slender's a little more reasonable."

"It's a distinct possibility."

"So we'll talk to him?"

"I'll do whatever you think's best," Jeff said, leaning back against the couch. "You know that."

"Yeah," Eyeless said. He offered Jeff a quiet smile, which was gladly accepted and returned. "I know. And thanks."

Jeff grunted. "Even if you're a blind guy."

"Oh, shut up," Eyeless said, pushing lightly on Jeff's head until he ducked it and batted the gray hand away.

"So when's Slender gettin' back?"

"Dunno." Eyeless shrugged. "He marked Laughing Jack and left again. At least by morning."

"What if he doesn't come back?" Jeff asked.

"I figure between you, me, and all the good kids we should be able to control things here for a little while."

"You think the newbies'll start something?"

"Beats me," Eyeless sighed. "Wouldn't put it past them, though. Keep a close eye, and you've got my permission to cut any of them you need to."

"Permission received," Jeff said, voice brightening. Eyeless shook his head helplessly.

When the living room started to lighten into shades of gray, Jeff left Eyeless to watch Toby while he rummaged through the fridge. What he found annoyed him immensely. There was, like, nothing. And then it gave him a little hope. "Eyeless, you think maybe Slender was getting food for us?"

"What? He doesn't usually. That's a proxy thing."

"I know, but we're almost out. Maybe he went stealing."

"Hope you're right," Eyeless said. "Is there at least enough for breakfast?"

"Not for fifteen boys," Jeff answered.

"First come first serve."

"Read my mind." Jeff set to making all the food he could find, so the fridge and cabinets would be empty when Slender came back to fill them again. He fried up their last half-package of bacon, scrambled five eggs, toasted twelve pieces of bread, set out the last one-fourth full bucket of butter, along with the almost-full carton of grape juice (because no one drank it but Toby. It was gross) and the almost-empty orange juice bottle, the little bit of peanut butter and jelly they had, a box of Saltine crackers, and threw out an empty milk carton because idiots needed to stop putting empty things back into the fridge. While he set things out he could hear Eyeless speaking quietly to BEN. It wasn't but a few minutes later BEN slunk into the kitchen, Smiledog trotting on his heels.

"Morning, sunshine," Jeff said, looking over BEN's mussed, grumpy countenance.

"Stupid dog kept me up all night. Wouldn't stop moving around," BEN huffed.

"Eat," Jeff said. "Before the others come down."

"Jeff, watch Toby for a sec," Eyeless said. Jeff did. Eyeless went upstairs and returned with Masky, Hoodie, and Laughing Jack, who he herded into the kitchen. When Jeff raised an eyebrow, Eyeless said, "Just making sure they stay healthy, in case we need them. Oh, and the new guy was in Masky and Hoodie's room. No, perv, nothing like that. He's afraid of the dark or something."

"You're kidding?"

"I'm sorry to say I'm not."

Rolling his eyes, Jeff grabbed a plate of food from the kitchen, a glass of grape juice because that's all that was left, and a glass of water. He settled himself back in the living room and gave Eyeless the water before starting in on his own breakfast. He had almost finished and was finding himself quite content, belly warm and full, with the sounds of peaceful chatter from the kitchen and Toby's slow breathing in his ears, when the front door opened.

Eyeless's head snapped that way, his nostrils flaring and eye sockets growing with surprise. "Slender and a stranger," he said. Raising his voice, he called, "Masky, Hoodie, get your masks on or stay in the kitchen. Jeff, you go in there with them, I'm gonna go get my mask."

"What about Toby?" Jeff said, his body already poised to move but still hovering over their injured friend.

"Shit," Eyeless said. He bounced nervously on his feet. "I dunno, I dunno—man, it's times like these I really wish we could talk to Slender first. Dammit. No, don't move him. Just—aw, crap, just stay here."

"But—"

"I know," Eyeless snapped. "They're not supposed to see us. Do—"

Slender entered the room, ducking through the doorway—and in his arms was a body and a face that stuffed dread down Jeff's throat and froze him stiff. A brave face easy with sleep, chestnut hair and eyes Jeff knew were a steady, calm green. _No, no, you can't be serious, _he thought. His chest started to rise and fall faster and his fists clenched. _Fucking no._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Extra-long chappie to make up for yesterday's super-short one. Happy Halloween Eve! **

**C****hapter Eight:** In Which There is Challenge

"Slender," Eyeless said, "man, can't you warn us?"

_You're up early, _Slender said. _I expected you to be—is that Toby? What happened? Jeffrey—is something wrong with him too?_

"No—ah, I didn't think so," Eyeless said. "Jeff? What?"

Jeff could hear them, in his head and against his eardrums, but he couldn't make himself see them. All he could see was that face, lax against Slender's chest, hair falling limp and lank, with a morbid pink smile angled at them—but that's not the only face he saw. He saw another face—bright-eyed, clever, courageous. A face that shouldn't have been in this world. A face that deserved so much fucking better than this world. _Jeffrey? _Slender asked. _Do you know him? I thought you might. This looks like your work. _

Jeff looked down, focusing on the carpet. His left hand shivered. A foreign feeling was welling in his heart—had he ever felt this before? It didn't feel familiar, but he knew what they called it. _Grief. _Such a small word for such a disabling emotion. He hadn't felt it when his family was gone, because why should he? He had sent them all to a better place, a place where they couldn't lie and wouldn't be lied to. Liu, especially, deserved that much. Sure, Jeff had missed his brother, his partner in crime, his best friend—but he wasn't selfish, so Liu had gone too. _But he hadn't. _Jeff bore his teeth, gritting them together, and he felt his eyes prick. _He stayed. He stayed in this fucking world. He suffered. Because of _me. _Because I didn't do my job. Liu—Liu, God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Fuck. Fuck, you don't deserve to be here._

Eyeless grabbed his shoulder and tugged it. Jeff spun around and knocked his hand away. "Fuck off," he growled, although it sounded watery. He rubbed angrily at his eyes, flinching when he touched their delicate surfaces _but you know what? He fucking deserves it. His poor brother. _

"The hell's wrong with you?" Eyeless asked. "You know him?"

"Of course I know him," Jeff snapped. Liu's older, his face sharper, but Jeff couldn't ever mistake him. Not after thirteen years of seeing it regularly, not after seeing the same bone structure peering back at him from the mirror on a day-to-day basis. Not ever.

_Did you try to kill him? _Slender asked.

_Yes, _Jeff said. _Shit, yes. But I fucked it up._

"Guys?" BEN's voice came from the kitchen. "Is it okay?"

"It's okay," Eyeless called. "It's just Slender and a newbie. He's out, though, so you can all come in here."

And then Jeff realized something, and he was happy to have a new target for the too-big emotion in his body. "And you didn't bring food back," he hissed at Slender, hunching his shoulders and leaning forward on his toes. As petty as it was, it became the target for the anger he fostered to kill off these things that side-slammed him. How else did you deal with the heavy, impossible creature winding itself around his spine, and his shoulders, and his head and everywhere. "What is _wrong _with you?"

He couldn't tell if Slender was surprised, but his words, when they came, were stiffer than usual. _Do not question me, _he said. _I think you should go to your room and rest. You were up all night with Toby, weren't you? You, too, Eyeless._

_Okay, _Eyeless thought, and turned to disappear up the stairs, but paused when Jeff didn't follow. "Jeff," he said, looking back.

_You can't just tell me to go to my room, _Jeff thought. _Don't you think we fucking deserve to know why you're suddenly treating us like this? Don't—_

_Room, _Slender thought. Jeff could feel the prickling in his mind, Slender hooking his claws further inside, a warning. It hadn't been like this for a long time. But now—Jeff ignored the warning.

_No. We don't have any more fucking room in this Mansion, we don't have any food, we're not getting jobs, and you _keep _bringing more people in. What's the deal? What game are you playing? _Slender's shadowy tentacles reared up behind him. _Puffing, _Jeff thought, scowling at him. _Posturing. You think I don't realize that? You think I'm stupid, don't you? I'm _not. _Look at Toby. Look what happened because of your—_

_Silence. _The voice in his head was like the crack of a whip, sudden and sharp. With it came punishment, pain, the driving of nails into his mind. _Go to your room. We will speak later. _

Jeff slunk to his room—like he had a fucking choice—his fury and betrayal and grief boiling together until he couldn't tell which caused which or if they were even different. He could feel multiple pairs of eyes on his back, scorching, and he knew Liu was still smiling at him with that damn pink scar. When he reached his room he slammed the door shut and felt Slender's presence retreat from his mind, more completely than ever before until he felt _alone_, and grief seared him anew. He bullied it away.

_Whatever_, he thought, _fuck them. This is all their fault. _But it wasn't. He knew that. He swallowed the understanding like a bitter gray pill. He'd fucked everything up. _But that's not unusual, _he thought, curling up on his bed. _Is it, you fucker?_

Jeff decided he hated the feeling of grief. He lay on his bed, staring outside his window towards the forest, watching as it grew lighter and lighter. He heard voices and movement outside and he wanted to see Toby, but he hadn't been given permission to leave, so he moped. About Toby, and Liu, and how he had snapped at Eyeless, and how empty his head was without Slender's steady pressure there. Jeff was under no delusion that he was his own again, but now even the parasite in his skull was avoiding him. He wallowed in self-pity when he started getting hungry—not that it mattered, because there was no food anyway. And he didn't even have his phone. Stupid Smiledog'd carried it off somewhere a week ago.

Jeff wasn't sure what time it was when there was a strange knock on his door. Only, to his knowledge, six people knocked on his door, and all of their knocks sounded specific. This one wasn't Eyeless's, or Masky's or Hoodie's or BEN's or Slender's or Toby's—not that Jeff thought Toby would be up and knocking on Jeff's door. It wasn't quite as timid as Masky's or Hoodie's, but it wasn't as confident as Eyeless's. It was a double-tap. Simply for the sake of curiosity—because no way did he want anyone around him right now, they all sucked—he said, "Come in."

Laughing Jack stuck his head inside. Jeff furrowed his brow. "Hey," Laughing Jack said, his voice soft. Coward.

"Whaddaya want?" Jeff asked, looking back out the window. And here he'd been hoping it was something semi exciting.

"Just wanted to tell you Toby woke up. Eyeless Jack says he's doing okay."

"Great, grand. Now go away." When Laughing Jack hesitated Jeff pounced on it. He couldn't have the newbie thinking he was weak just because Slender bossed him around, could he? "When I tell you to do something, you do it," he snapped, rolling off of his bed and onto his feet. "That's the way things work around here. Understand, or is it too difficult of a concept for you?" Jeff sneered, pulling his baby from its sheath.

"Yeah, yeah," Laughing Jack said. "I get it. I just—"

"You just nothing." Jeff waved his knife, admiring the way the sunshine from the window flashed off the blade. His knife was so pretty-pretty. They made a fine team, the two of them. Pretty _and _fatal. "Haul ass."

"I will, just—"

"Damn, you're stubborn," Jeff said, and then he launched himself at Laughing Jack, who reeled back and out of his room. Jeff cut to a stop before he hit the doorway and glared at him. "Fucking coward."

"I just wanted to know if you were okay," Laughing Jack said. "And so did the others. They just didn't want to bother you." The clown grimaced. "I can see why. You're a mean little guy, aren't you? So are you okay?"

"I'm fucking great," Jeff said. "Peachy. Now why don't you listen to me?"

"Well I _will—_"

"You're _not_."

"I'm not done talking," Laughing Jack huffed.

"You don't get to pick when we're done talking." Jeff pointed his knife and glared at the door, wondering why the hell it couldn't open in instead of out, so he could shut it in Laughing Jack's face.

"No, but I get to pick when_ I'm_ done talking."

"Not if I wasn't stuck in here you wouldn't. You wouldn't have a fucking tongue to talk with, you bitch."

"You _are_ really mean," Laughing Jack said.

Jeff stared at him. "You're kidding? Of course I'm fucking mean. I'm a serial killer. Or haven't you noticed?" This guy was killing him, really. Jeff hadn't been aware that there was such a level of stupidity.

"I noticed, but nobody else is this mean."

Jeff rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "Cry me a river. And float away on it, if you really wanna make me happy."

Laughing Jack's mouth twitched into a half-smile that made Jeff furious. "No can do. How'd you know that new guy?"

"How long are you gonna stay here?"

"Dunno, I'm kinda having fun. You seem irritated."

"Fuck you." Jeff itched to close the distance between them, to cut flesh and smell blood. To prove himself, to make himself unbearably clear—_he_ was in charge, not the idiot. But there was no way to do that, no way to get rid of this domineering anger. No, because Slender had locked in him his room with his grief and his rage and no way to get rid of it. What clever punishment. Jeff felt the urge to laugh, his chest hitching, but he swallowed it down. He'd never realized how sadistic Slender could be. He should have.

Laughing Jack's eyes widened. "Hey, though, that guy's okay. He's been marked now."

Breath rushed between Jeff's teeth and a fine tremor seized his body. "No."

"Uh, yeah," Laughing Jack said. "Isn't that a...good thing?"

"_No, _it's _not,_" Jeff said, clutching his head. "You know what, you just made this whole situation suck more. Please go away."

Laughing Jack's eyes were confused and concerned and Jeff wasn't certain he'd ever hated anyone so much as he did Laughing Jack in that moment. Acting like he fucking cared just to get a rise—fuck him. Jeff whirled and threw himself back on his bed, yanking his blanket over his head. He wasn't sure how long Laughing Jack stood there before he left, but he never said a word, and when Jeff looked back over his door was shut and the clown was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Happy Halloween! May it be full of many tricks and treats. :D Alright, so this is the last chappie I'm posting in our Week of Halloween. After today, I'll still be updating, but it'll probably be a little slower. Every three to five days, probably, unless I find an excuse to update more frequently. Hm...Thanksgiving is coming up...Anyway, thanks so much for reading! **

**Chapter Nine: **In Which There Are Conversations

Slender came to talk with him the next morning. He brought, to Jeff's disgust, a plate of pancakes. Jeff was sure Slender meant to torment him with them, so he rolled over to face the wall when the monster sat on his bed. _Jeffrey, _he began, and Jeff couldn't stop the sudden relief that bounced into his ribcage when he realized Slender was back in his head.

_What? _Jeff asked, looking stubbornly at the wall.

_You must be hungry._

_Of course I am._

_I brought breakfast. _

_Oh, you're actually going to let me eat it? _Jeff asked, the thought stiff and sarcastic.

Slender's shoulders sagged some. _Yes, of course. If you'll sit up. _Jeff paused, then sighed and sat, reaching for the plate. Slender relinquished it immediately. _I am not sorry about yesterday. _

_Okay?_

_You should know better than to act so childishly, and you know how a leader has to respond to challenges, _Slender thought. Jeff thought about getting angry, but he was still tired from all the emotions yesterday and the pancakes really were good. He didn't like fighting with Slender, anyways. It really wasn't worth it. _I am, however, sorry that I made you and Eyeless believe I cared less for you._

_You talked to Eyeless?_

_I did. He told me your concerns. _

Jeff shrugged. _Stupid, I know. But we've never—you know, been out of food before. _

_It's not stupid, Jeffrey. I was remiss in my attentions. There have been...things going on, but—_

_What things? _Jeff asked, looking up from his sticky plate.

_Nothing for you to concern yourself about, _Slender said.

_But we could—_

_Jeffrey._

_Sorry._

_It's alright. Simply things that have been requiring my attention. I went out last night and the kitchen has been fully restocked. I have apologized to Toby and I have also had one of the storage rooms turned into a room for Liu, _Slender said. Jeff cringed at the name. _About that. You know him, don't you?_

_Yeah, _Jeff said, swirling his fork around through the syrup. _He's, um, he's my brother. _

Slender nodded. _I wondered. You look alike. In stature, anyhow. What happened?_

Jeff sighed and settled back against the wall. _I, uh, tried to kill him with him my parents, because he—he didn't deserve to fucking stay here. But—but I guess I fucked up, because he's still here. Is he okay?_

_Doing well, _Slender said. _He doesn't know you're here. Are you going to say hello to him?_

_I dunno, _Jeff thought. _He probably hates me. I don't blame him. _

_We'll see how things go. Come, let's go downstairs. I wanted to tell you that you were allowed out of your room, too._

_Gee, thanks, _Jeff said, trotting after Slender. Once they were downstairs, Slender went towards his office and Jeff headed for the kitchen. He set his plate next to the sink and then sat in the coffee room to enjoy the morning light. Eyeless was already there and greeted him with a cautious smile. "Hey."

"Hey," Jeff said. And that was their entire conversation, but the quiet that followed was peaceful. When Eyeless finished browsing the newspaper, which Jeff occasionally peeked at over his shoulder, they headed out to the living room. They found Masky and Hoodie on the couch again, tucked next to Toby and watching BEN and Laughing Jack play Xbox. Laughing Jack was losing by a large margin, but he didn't seem to mind overly much. He even flashed Eyeless and Jeff a grin when he noticed them—creep.

"Heyyyy, Jeffy, Eye," Toby greeted them, smiling broadly.

"Hey, brat," Jeff said, sprawling out on the second couch.

"Hey. How are you feeling?" Eyeless asked.

"Same as always," Toby said. "Fine and dandy."

"Stay off the leg," Eyeless said.

"But it doesn't—uh, sir, yes, sir." Looking away from Eyeless, Toby scoffed at the TV. "Oh, come on, Laugh, you play like a three-year-old."

"I second," BEN chirruped. "You suck."

"Thanks ever so much," Laughing Jack muttered, randomly smashing buttons on his controller.

The content of their morning lasted until about ten o'clock, when Liu decided to make his appearance. Jeff had expected it—the thought had been sitting, heavy and jumpy in his stomach, for most of the morning. Unfortunately, the others were good at forming a distraction with video games and short spats and Toby's regaling of his failed job, so when Liu entered the living room Jeff was completely unprepared.

He got a couple seconds to see Liu's face, almost like he remembered it. Green eyes flitted around the room, a smile (he was nervous, Jeff recognized the shape of his mouth) on his face. And then, before Liu could even speak his good morning, the same green eyes landed on Jeff. Jeff thought he himself looked pretty scared—his face felt like it looked scared, anyway—but he thought Liu may have looked more terrified than him.

Jeff worked his jaw helplessly for a minute, then said, in a short rush of breath, "Hey, good morning, come in."

Liu shook his head—more a sign of disbelief than refusal—and looked over Jeff's head at Eyeless. "Is he here?" Liu asked.

The room had fallen silent, except for the music coming from the Xbox game, so when Eyeless answered it seemed unbearably loud. "Jeff? Yeah, he's here. Do you know each other?"

Liu wavered on his feet—his face, Jeff thought, was almost as white as Jeff's own. His jaw worked itself uselessly, much like Jeff's had seconds prior, before he said, voice rough and quavering, "Yeah."

"Liu," Jeff said, twisting around on the couch until he could fully face his brother. He saw Liu stiffen, saw his legs twitch, and felt a flash of hot guilt. When they were little, Liu had never been scared of anything—and now he was scared of Jeff. "It's okay. I'm not—I mean, I—"

"No," Liu said, rubbing the side of his head and mussing the hair there. "I can't—" He shook his head again, his eyes straying everywhere but near Jeff. "Later. Bye."

And then Liu was gone, fleeing with the speed of a chased hare and Jeff was bouncing between sorrow and embarrassment, because the entire room was staring at him. "What was that?" Eyeless asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," Jeff muttered, folding his arms across his chest and slouching back into the couch cushions. "Quit staring at me," he snapped, when several pairs of questioning eyes remained unabashedly focused on him. After he spoke they swiveled away, but the room was still quiet. Jeff hated it.

Eyeless nudged his leg and Jeff tore his gaze away from the carpet to glare. _Talk later? _Eyeless mouthed. Jeff shrugged and looked at the TV, where Laughing Jack was still losing to BEN by a tragic margin. After a few more minutes he finally seemed to catch onto the fact that he wouldn't ever beat BEN—nobody did—and groaned, flopping onto his back and tipping his head back to look at the couches. "Anybody else wanna play?" he asked.

BEN copied him and grinned. "You still totally suck."

"I know."

"I'll play," Toby said, stretching out his hand for a controller. After looking at Eyeless for permission, Laughing Jack handed Toby the controller and crawled onto the second couch between Eyeless and Jeff.

"How do you know that guy?" he asked, looking at Jeff.

"You have all the tact of a...horse," Jeff decided.

"Curiosity killed the cat, and _I _killed the cat, so I figure me and Curiosity are the same thing," Laughing Jack said. Jeff shook his head—idiots were impossible to understand, and he feared if he tried he would hurt himself—and resumed staring at the TV. Laughing Jack let it go for about three seconds. "Soooo...how do you know him?" Jeff ignored him. "Is it something personal?" Jeff flicked his eyes upwards. _I will not stab him, I will not stab—_"Did you try to kill him?"—_I will stab him. I will stab him as soon as we're alone. _"He looked kind of like he tried to have a smile like yours—" _Very hard. In the face. _

"Laughing Jack," Eyeless said. Laughing Jack looked over at him. "I'd leave him alone about it. He's got a hell of a temper and a hell of a knife if you stir it up."

"Thank you," Jeff said, rubbing the handle of said knife.

"He doesn't seem as mad as he did yesterday," Laughing Jack observed, glancing back at Jeff.

"No, but he's not stuck in his room today, either, so I'd watch your mouth," Eyeless suggested.

"I was only asking—"

"You don't _only ask _stupid things like that," Jeff said.

"Well how'm I supposed to know anything if I don't?" Laughing Jack asked.

"Same way everyone else does. You watch and you mimic and you respect your elders," Jeff said.

Laughing Jack lifted an eyebrow. "I'm fairly certain I'm much older than you."

"Yeah? How old are you?"

"Two hundred thirty-one years."

"Fuck that, I'm serious," Jeff said, narrowing his eyes.

"So am I," Laughing Jack said, grinning. "I'm not people, remember?"

"He's being serious," Eyeless confirmed. "He's not human."

"And how old are you, Mr. Elder?" Laughing Jack asked, jabbing Jeff's shoulder.

"Do not touch me," Jeff warned, whacking Laughing Jack's hand away.

The clown drew his hand to his chest and looked at it before returning his dumb white eyes to Jeff. "Alright, touche. So how old're you?"

"Doesn't matter, I've still been here longer than you, so I still have authority."

"He's got a thing about authority," Eyeless added. "I wouldn't argue with it."

"Well I wasn't really planning on it," Laughing Jack said.

"Good, because I'll kill you," Jeff said. "It goes like this—" Jeff held a finger up—"listen to Slender first—" a second finger—"then Eyeless—" a third finger—"and then me. Beneath that, you can sort out your own place. I don't give a shit where you end up."

"Good to know," Laughing Jack said.

"Yes, it is. Now since we've sorted that out—you don't ask me stupid questions."

"How am I supposed to know if they're stupid?"

"Huh, that's right. You don't have common sense." Jeff shuffled irritably away from Laughing Jack, pressing himself further into the couch arm, and glared at the TV screen, where BEN was still winning. Laughing Jack seemed about to respond, but he shut his mouth after a second and began egging Toby on.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: We hit the actual plot tomorrow, I'm so excited! Enjoy. :)**

**Chapter Ten: **In Which There is Lunch and Liu

It was lunchtime when Jeff saw Liu again. It had been his and Eyeless's day to cook lunch, so Liu caught him looking like a housewife. It had always been a joke in the Mansion to wear aprons and chef hats when it was your cooking day, so Slender had bought them all their very own aprons and hats. Jeff's apron was white with little red splatters and "Killer Chef" written across it—his hat was matching, white with red. Needless to say, Jeff was mortified when Liu entered the kitchen. It was some condolence that Liu looked surprised, so Jeff assumed his brother wasn't cornering him in the kitchen, where there were lots of potential weapons to kill each other with.

Eyeless sneezed, making them both jump. "Sorry," he muttered. "This smells like pepper, though. Or is it paprika? Jeff?"

"Oh, you know which one it is. Don't distract me," Jeff said. "Hey, Liu."

"Snappy much?" Eyeless said. "Hi, Liu."

"Hey," Liu said.

"Jeff assumes I can smell everything—I mean, mostly I can, but would you mind confirming that this is pepper?" Eyeless held up a little pepper shaker.

Liu nodded, caught himself, and said, "Yeah."

Eyeless smiled. "Thanks. Jeff, you should be more like Liu. Notice how polite he is."

"I'm polite," Jeff protested.

Eyeless laughed. Liu's shoulders seemed to relax some and Jeff couldn't help but admire how smoothly Eyeless handled people. How he did it without even seeing their body language, Jeff had no idea—or maybe he could smell their emotions? Now that would be weird. Discarding the thought, Jeff grabbed the pepper from Eyeless and set it on the counter. "We don't even need pepper."

"Ah, we don't? I thought for sure the recipe—"

"It said garlic pepper, not just pepper," Jeff sighed.

"I can't read."

"I _told _you the recipe. Here, you watch—listen to this boil," Jeff said, shuffling around Eyeless to the spice cabinet and pulling out what they needed.

"Liu, could you start the bacon?" Eyeless asked. "It's in the fridge. Jeff, show him where it is."

Jeff stiffened, almost protested, decided that would make things more awkward, and cautiously stepped to the fridge. He pulled out a packet of bacon and stretched it out to Liu, who refused to look at him but gingerly accepted the pack and took a place on the other side of Eyeless. "Oh, or were you doing something?" Eyeless asked Liu—like the thought had just occurred to him. Tricky bastard.

"Um, not really," Liu said. "Just looking for Jack."

"Which one?" Eyeless asked.

"Laughing," Liu said, his mouth twitching up just the littlest bit.

"Newbies gotta stick together, huh?" Eyeless said. "Jeff, the pasta feels squishy." Eyeless scooped out a piece with the spoon and held it towards Jeff.

"Yep," Jeff said.

"Now we drain it?"

"Now we drain it," Jeff agreed. Eyeless took the pasta to the sink, leaving an empty space between Jeff and Liu. Jeff didn't look at Liu, and Liu didn't look at Jeff. Jeff loathed the fact that he ever had to be this nervous around his brother. It wasn't how things were supposed to be. But here they were, both of them wolves turned rabbits because of a fucking stupid mistake. It was an enormous relief when Eyeless stepped between them again.

"Well this is pleasantly awkward," Eyeless commented.

"Isn't it though?" Liu murmured. "How done does the bacon need to be?"

"Most of them like it crispy, and the others can suck it up," Eyeless said. "Twelve pieces should be good."

Jeff grabbed the pot of pasta and dumped it into the mixing bowl, stirring it with the other ingredients.

"So Jeff told me you guys are brothers," Eyeless said. Jeff stirred more irritably. Of course he would bring it up, he just couldn't leave it alone. Liu kept his silence. "So you are?" Eyeless pushed.

"I guess," Liu said.

"Why guess? Parents sleep around a lot?"

Liu snorted. "No. I just—I don't know anymore."

"I thought we were brothers," Jeff said quietly, eyes focused on the mixing bowl.

"Are we?" Liu asked.

Jeff peeked around Eyeless, who leaned back some. Liu was still focused on the sizzling bacon, but his eyes were distant and tired. "Of course you are," Eyeless said. "You don't get to pick your blood."

"I don't think—that's not what we mean, Eye," Jeff said.

"Well what do you mean?"

"Brothers are supposed to take care of each other," Liu said. "Protect each other—we didn't. Both of us fucked it up. Here, bacon."

Eyeless took the five slices that were done and began tearing them into little pieces, which he threw into Jeff's mixing bowl. "Well just 'cause you fucked something up doesn't mean you can't fix it."

"He's not even Jeff anymore," Liu said, his tone darkening.

"He's got a point," Jeff said. "I'm not really that Jeff anymore."

"Is Liu exactly like he was five years ago?" Eyeless asked.

"No," Jeff and Liu said together.

"Then New Liu and New Jeff can still be brothers."

"If only it was that simple," Liu sighed. "Look, Eyeless, I appreciate the concern but I just don't think either of us wants to be brothers again."

"I kind of do," Jeff said.

"Neither of us could _stand _to be brothers again."

"Probably not," Jeff said. "Are you going to kill me?"

"I feel like I should be the one asking you that," Liu said. "I don't think so."

"Okay. I don't think I'll kill you either," Jeff said. "I'll have to think about it."

"Wow, what a comfort," Liu muttered. "More bacon."

"This was not the end I wanted to achieve," Eyeless commented. "I'm not letting it go."

"Okay," Jeff said.

"Right," Liu said.

"Jeff, I don't think you should kill Liu," Eyeless said.

Jeff opened his mouth to say that he couldn't decide that he wouldn't, because he still hated that his brother was living in this fucked world, but then—well, then Liu would know why Jeff murdered their family. Jeff wasn't sure why that thought was rebuffing—shouldn't he have wanted to explain himself? So maybe Liu would understand?—but it was. And then, after a second, he realized why it was. Liu would call him insane, think he was mental. He _wasn't. _And he didn't—he didn't want Liu to think that. Ever. Even though he probably already did. But Jeff wouldn't give him any more reason to focus on.

Hell, there was already so much to talk about. Did Liu kill people? Would Liu _understand_ his reason? Did they have the same reasoning? Was Liu lying when he said he wouldn't kill Jeff? Why had he agreed to become a proxy? _Could _they be brothers, if they both understood killing? Could they work together? To answer Eyeless, Jeff shrugged and said, "I probably won't."

"Okay, I order you not to kill Liu."

Jeff grinned. "Slender's already done that. I can't say how much of a difference it'll make."

Eyeless shook his head. "Don't make me beat you, boy. Is that done?"

"Yeah," Jeff said, hefting the bowl off of the counter. "Now we chill it for an hour, right?"

"You tell me. I still can't read." Eyeless grabbed the recipe book and threw it back on top of the fridge. "Probably, though."

The rest of the day was actually pretty good. They ate lunch outside—they even brought Toby with them—in the summer sunshine, and they did the same thing with dinner, although they dumped bug spray all over themselves before they did. After dinner they ate a chocolate cake Masky and BEN made, and sprawled out in the living room—all of sixteen (Slender included, but minus one of the newbies, who was out on a job) of them—and watched movies late into the night. Slender disappeared sometime after the second movie, but Jeff didn't think much of it. And that, as mundane as it was, was the last good time in the Mansion.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: The chapters are getting longer. Grrr. They need to stop that. Also: plot is here. Hello, plot. You're amazing. And this chappie was mostly written while listening to the songs "Paradise Lost" by Hollywood Undead and "Structure" by Innerpartysystem-both, in my opinion, fitting (and awesome) songs. Enjoy reading!**

**Chapter Eleven:** In Which They Walk Away

Jeff woke up to a voice in his head. _Get up. Pack your things at once—clothes, weapons, what food you can get, but you will travel lightly. Two bags, at most. Quickly and quietly. Wake no one else and come to my office. _

_Slender? _Jeff asked, sitting and reaching for his knife. Slender didn't answer him. _Are we hearing things?_

"Jeff—"

Jeff jerked, tightened his fingers around his baby, and shot his gaze towards his door, where an unfamiliar voice emanated from. The figure he saw sitting beside the door set anger on his shoulders. "Laughing Jack? What the_ fuck_ are you doing in my room?" he hissed through his teeth, trying to slow his heart.

"Maskie and Hoodie kicked me out of theirs," Laughing Jack whispered. "But did you hear that too? Slenderman?"

"Yeah," Jeff said, his anger fading in the light of confusion and curiosity, his thoughts chasing after possibilities like dogs with ADD. Jeff hopped off his bed and glowered at the newbie, where he sat with a blanket and a pillow."Get out and go get your stuff." He herded Laughing Jack out of his room and into the hallway. "Hurry up."

Laughing Jack headed down the hallway, dragging his blanket like a child, and Jeff ducked back into his room. He stuffed clothes and his hoodies into his duffel bag, along with a blanket and pillow. All the while his mind spun. Was Slender sending them on a big job? An urgent one? Or had the cops found them? The thought poured anxiety down Jeff's spine and he hauled his bag over his shoulder and jogged to the stairs. He met BEN on the way and fell into step with him. Eyeless, Masky, and Hoodie were already in the kitchen when Jeff and BEN arrived, and they all worked in careful silence to pass the food out. Laughing Jack and Toby, who was leaning heavily on him, were the last to arrive, and after their bags were filled, they all hurried back up the stairs. They slunk down the hallway, steps quiet on the carpet, and Jeff thought irritably, _Feels like we're criminals in our own house—which is a criminal house. Not fucking cool. _

Slender opened his door for them when they reached it and ushered them all inside. He didn't look...happy. Not that he ever looked like anything, but whatever he looked like it was making the knot in Jeff's stomach tighten. They clumped together and watched as he sat behind his desk and folded his hands before him. He also seemed...cold. Distant. Jeff felt his nerves sparking. _Good._ Slender thought to them. _You will be leaving tonight. _Their group shifted but passed no word among themselves. Leaving wasn't unusual, if something unexpected popped up. Usually never in a group so large, but—well, who were they to question Slender? Most of them had yet to reach adulthood. _And you will not come back. _This time their group froze and furious, confused whispering broke out until Slender thought, sinking his claws into their minds, _Silence. You will obey. _

_What? _Jeff thought—not to Slender, but to himself, as a stunned kind of dis-reality fogged in his head. That fog was readily burned away by rage when he realized Slender was dead serious. BEN latched onto his arm and the rage flared higher, until it _was _his reality. Maybe if Slender had just hurt him—but hurting his entire _family._ He could see his knife between Slender's ribs. It probably wouldn't amount to much, but it would be fun. It would relieve some of tight, unpleasant emotions that sat behind Jeff's sternum. It was just like a monster. After he told Jeff he would pay more attention to them—he _sends them away. _Fucking monster.

_For how long? _Eyeless thought, daring to break the quiet. He was still standing straight, chin still up, still clinging to his leadership. Jeff checked his own stance and found, with not a little pride, that he did the same thing. He didn't appear weak or shocked. Good. He wouldn't give Slenderman the satisfaction.

_You won't come back. Ever, _Slenderman said. They huddled closer to each other, stunned eyes staring at the monster they all followed, through thick in thin. _Used _to follow. _You'll leave this place and go north. You will not enter within a two hundred mile radius of it, or I will kill you. Neither will you lead police back here, or you will face the same consequence. And it will not be pleasant. Go and do not return, on pain of death._

They paused, and they stared, until Jeff whirled on his heel and shoved past BEN. He jerked the door open with a twitching left hand and (quietly, because as much as he despised he was still terrified of Slenderman) for the front door. Behind him, he heard footsteps. They grew quieter when they arrived outside, with no walls to bounce off of, and Eyeless caught up to Jeff. Jeff looked over at him and he saw a kind of numbness on the mask Eyeless had slipped that he hoped was reflected on his face. Because he wasn't. Numb, that is. He was kind of shocked, because he thought—well, that maybe Slender really _cared. _Damn stupid, he knew now. Slenderman was a monster. That was probably was he was bringing in all the newbies—to replace his orginals, once he sent them out to die. That was the other thing he felt, besides the shock—self-righteous anger. Because Slenderman had played them all like so many cards, so many fucking idiot dogs—and they'd stumbled right along with him for years. He felt fury with himself, for ever daring to place his trust in someone, and he felt fury at Slenderman, and at the newbies, and—hell, at everyone.

Jeff was so absorbed in his emotions, watching his anger boil, that he hardly noticed when they left the forest. He hardly noticed when the sun came up. He _did _notice when Eyeless stopped walking, catching Jeff's shoulder. Jeff jerked away from him. "What?" he asked, his voice sharp.

"We should stop and eat," Eyeless said. His voice was as dull as his mask.

"Why?" Jeff asked. "We're all gonna die anyway. Let's just slit our wrists now. Save us a lot of energy."

"Shut up," Eyeless said, his voice still the same. He turned to face the others. "Guys, we're eating." The group didn't disperse, but they sat close to each other, rummaging through their bags. Once he saw that they obeyed, Eyeless pushed Jeff away from them and hissed, "Don't say stuff like that. You survived without Slender when you were thirteen. Laughing Jack survived for _hundreds _of years. We're not going to die."

"He wouldn't send us away if he thought we were going to live," Jeff said.

"We're not going to die," Eyeless insisted.

"Well we're sure as hell not going to live." Jeff spun on his heel and started to storm away, because he just coudn't stand being around any of the others, with their confused eyes and worried faces, but Eyeless caught him again. So Jeff did the logical thing. He spun back around and punched Eyeless. It wasn't very effective, considering Eyeless's mask, but it made Jeff feel a tiny bit better. Until Eyeless punched him back—a hell of a right hook to his jaw. Jeff stumbled backwards, snarled, and then launched himself at Eyeless's middle.

They were brawling after that, hitting and clawing and when Eyeless's mask got yanked off the bastard _bit _Jeff, so Jeff tried to pull his knife out. He only succeeded in allowing Eyeless to pin his arm to the ground and sock him in the jaw again. Somehow he wormed his way out from underneath Eyeless, jumped to his feet and wrestled his baby out from its sheath, only to have it stolen from him. He turned and bore his teeth at Laughing Jack, who skittered back to where the others were still clustered, staring. "Let's not make this fatal, boys," Laughing Jack said.

Eyeless slammed into Jeff before he could respond to Jack, dragging them both back to the ground. Jeff brought his leg up and drove his heel into Eyeless's eye socket, thrilled when Eyeless yelped and scrambled backwards, one hand coming up to clamp over his face. "Bastard," Eyeless snarled, throwing himself at Jeff again. Jeff rolled onto his feet and tried to get a punch in at Eyeless's gut, but Eyeless's knee came up and smashed into his nose with a crunch. Eyeless pressed his sudden advantage when Jeff backed off, holding his nose. Eyeless knocked his feet out from under him until he was on the ground _again. _He trapped Jeff there, his wrists pressed into the ground and his body kept still by Eyeless's weight.

Jeff glared at him for a second before he heaved out a breath and let his head fall back onto the ground. He wriggled his nose and grimaced. "I think," he said, "you may have broken my nose."

Eyeless's grip on him didn't loosen, but Jeff felt his body quiver some. When he spoke, his voice sounded amused. "Yeah, it was a good hit."

"Dirty trick."

"You tried to bring a knife to a fist fight."

Jeff grunted. "You bit me. I'll probably die of an infection now."

Eyeless's whacked him again—not gently, but not so hard Jeff felt the overwhelming need to struggle again. "We're not going to die. None of us. Okay?"

Jeff huffed. "Yeah, whatever."

Raising his voice some, so the others could hear, Eyeless said, "We are _all _going to be fine. We're going to work together, like we've always done, and we're going to keep each other safe. We're still a—a family. And that's what families do. What brothers do. Right, Jeff?"

"Right," Jeff muttered.

"Good," Eyeless said. He flicked a strand of hair out of Jeff's eyes. "Okay, then. Are we done, Jeff?"

"We're done." Eyeless released him, standing and offering Jeff a hand up. Jeff accepted it and dusted himself off. He glared at the others. "Unless anyone else wants a go?"

"No, we're good," BEN said, stuffing a Twinkie into his mouth.

"BEN," Eyeless groaned. "What kind of a breakfast is that?"

"A good one," BEN said.

Jeff bypassed Eyeless and stood in front of Laughing Jack, holding his hand out. "My knife. Now." Laughing Jack set his baby in his palm and Jeff slipped it back into its sheath. "We don't touch the knife." Then he stormed to his bag, grabbed a box of crackers and started munching hostilely on them. For about five minutes they were quiet, eating in the sunshine, before Eyeless stood from his place at BEN's side and cleared his throat. Six pairs of eyes locked on him.

"Alright," Eyeless said. "I feel like we should set some ground rules. Now I know most of us have survived on our own before, and we had our own methods—so feel free to share if you have any suggestions. Masky, Hoodie, both of you should keep your masks on. I will, too. Jeff—well, you might get a mask. Your face is pretty noticeable. Laughing Jack—okay, new plan. Masky, Hoodie, still keep your masks on but how about if anyone asks we tell them we're going to, like, a party or something. Alright? Alright. And we're all brothers. Me and Laughing Jack will be the big brothers and you guys are with us, okay? And we need better names. Come up with some real-sounding names, but not your real names, and tell me later.

"Priority for right now is shelter. We need somewhere secluded, and two hundred miles away from here. Until then, did anyone bring anything we could set up with? Damn. Oh well. We'll figure it out tonight. We should stay out of cities as much as possible, though. And we should have enough food to last us a week or so. After that, we'll have to steal. So maybe not too far away from a town."

"Hey, I know," Jeff said, looking up at Eyeless. When Eyeless looked back at him, Jeff said, "That little town I came from. I mean—it was little. Oh, shit, never mind. It's not two hundred miles from here and we wouldn't want Slendy to kill us." Jeff twisted his mouth. "Carry on."

"It was a good idea, though. When we settle down we can figure out job schedules. 'till then: no killing unless absolutely necessary. I'll probably have to at some point, because I'm starving. Are we all good with that? Thanks. Also, try not to fight with each other. Just because Slenderman's not around anymore doesn't mean we can start tearing each other apart. If you do, I'll sic Jeff on you. Or Jeff, I'll beat you to a little bloody pulp myself. Clear? Alrighty. So start packing up and we'll move off in a little bit. Jeff, I want to see your arm."

"You _bit _me."

"I know, stupid. That's why I want to see it."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**: In Which There Are Cattle and Clowns

"Uh, should we maybe run?" BEN asked, warily eying the cattle that stopped some fifty feet away from their group. If Jeff knew his cattle any—and he did. He was Midwesterner—they were beef. Angus, probably. Stout and heavy.

"Are they running?" Eyeless asked, not pausing in his stride.

"Not yet," BEN said.

"Then I think we're—"

"Oh crap. Now they're running," BEN said. Jeff watched him hop towards Eyeless's side like a bird, dark eyes wide. The rest of their group followed suit, stumbling over each other as the cattle neared. Jeff wasn't sure which one of them bolted first, but it triggered all of them into a mad dash.

The field stretched out acres in all directions, so there was no escape behind a fence, but there was a grove of trees that they all fled for. But the thing about stampeding cattle is that you really can't outrun them. Maybe if the trees had been closer—but they weren't. Jeff, towards the front of the group, lasted about two minutes before he was overtaken by thundering hooves and large black bodies. He tripped and hit the ground, cracking his chin against it and yelping. A hoof struck him over the head and drove his chin back into the ground. He curled up, clamped his hands over his skull, and waited.

The flood of cattle trampled around him, their hooves smashing the grass and tripping over his body, their weight thudding around and their breath blasting far too close to him for any sort of comfort. It seemed like an hour before the herd dissipated, sheltering in the same trees Jeff and the others had been headed for and looking back at them with large, twitchy eyes. Jeff uncoiled and stretched, groaning. His head hurt, his face hurt, his shoulders hurt—hell, everything hurt. Pushing himself to sit, Jeff looked around. He was relieved to see six moving, living figures scattered in the grass around him. "Everybody alive?" Eyeless called. He was already standing, his face turned towards the cattle.

"I think I am," Jeff said.

"Me and Masky are," Hoodie said.

"Let me get back to you on that," BEN answered shakily.

"Dandy," Laughing Jack said.

"You teleported, cheater," BEN said, pointing an accusing finger towards him. Laughing Jack grinned and nodded.

"I'm bleeding again," Toby said, patting his stomach. Eyeless walked to him and crouched, pulling his shirt up and sighing.

"Yeah. Anybody else hurt?" Eyeless said. After receiving several affirmations, he corrected himself and said, "Anybody else hurt _badly_?" When it was decided that no one else was, Eyeless set to work fixing Toby's ripped stitches while the rest of them stared warily at the cattle. None of them sat, except for Toby and Eyeless, but BEN made his way to stand by Jeff.

"What are you eating? You know you shouldn't—" Jeff started, seeing BEN's jaw moving. Food had to be conserved for as long as possible. Well, that rule hadn't been lain out before, so Jeff guessed he couldn't get too upset about it. But it should be common sense.

"Huh? Oh, no, it's just candy. Laugh gave it to me," BEN said.

"You've known him for, what, four days, and you take candy from him? And he's a murderer? BEN."

"It's not like I can die," BEN said, sniffing. "It's probably okay. Want one?"

"No. I would die."

"Oh yeah. Hey Laugh—Laugh, is your candy poisoned?" BEN asked.

"Huh? No," Laughing Jack said. "Why? Want some, Jeff?"

Jeff narrowed his eyes. "Not on your life."

"You know your head's bleeding?" Laughing Jack asked.

"Yes." Jeff swiped his hand across the back of his head, where a hoof had clipped it. When he looked back at it, blood clung to his fingers. Pretty.

"Eyeless, Jeff's bleeding," Laughing Jack said.

Eyeless hardly looked away from Toby. "Yeah? Is it bad?"

"No," Jeff said. "Just my head."

"Alright, but if you pass out you'll slow us down," Eyeless warned.

"I won't pass out," Jeff said. "Laughingstock's just being annoying." Laughing Jack frowned and attempted to circle around Jeff and look at the back of his head. Jeff, glaring, kept Laughing Jack in front of him. The third circle they made and Jeff was starting to get dizzy—probably, he concluded, an effect of blood loss, the spinning, and the swirly black and white on the clown's nose that was making him feel like his eyes were crossed. He staggered some and Laughing Jack leaped at the opening.

"_Eye,_" he called, his eyes glinting merrily. "Jeff's tripping now."

Jeff backed away from the clown, baring his teeth and rubbing his eyes. "Fucker," he growled.

He was planning out an assault in his head when Eyeless grabbed him by the jaw and twisted his head to the side, clicking his tongue. "We could cut off all of your hair and then stitch it up, if you want."

"No," Jeff said, tugging away from Eyeless.

"Then sit down before you fall down."

"But the cows—"

"You can stand up if they try to attack you again," Eyeless said dryly.

"I'm not even dizzy," Jeff grumbled. "The fucking clown made me dizzy."

"Obviously," Eyeless said. "The fucking clown is going to watch you now. Clean his head off, too, if you can." Eyeless looked up at Laughing Jack, who beamed and nodded.

"Of course," he said. "You're the boss." Jeff stalked away from them before sitting and refusing to look at Laughing Jack when he bounced to Jeff's side. Laughing Jack sat beside him, comfortable as anything, and said, "I have a rag. Lemme see your head."

Jeff snatched the damp rag from him. "I can do it myself, bastard."

"But Eyeless said—"

"He'll be happy whenever my head's clean. Doesn't matter how the fuck it gets done," Jeff said. He roughly scrubbed the back of his head for a few seconds before pushing the rag back at Laughing Jack. "There. Done."

"Maybe you should hold it on—just let me see it."

"_No._"

"Eye will be mad if it's still bloody," Laughing Jack whined.

"It's _not._"

"Yeah it is."

"Fuck off," Jeff said.

Laughing Jack reached for his head and Jeff ducked away. "Please? I promise I'll be careful."

"What? And you want me to _trust _you?" Jeff let out a bitter laugh.

"Well, yeah. I don't expect it, though. But how about if it hurts too much you can punch me."

"I'll punch you whenever I want to."

"I'll give you candy?"

"Were you born this dumb?" Jeff asked.

"Wasn't really _born_," Laughing Jack said. "Pleaseee let me see it."

Jeff exhaled and rubbed his forehead. He was getting a headache. "If you'll leave me the fuck alone."

"I promise," Laughing Jack said, his eyes lighting up. "So I can see it?"

"Whatever," Jeff said, but he didn't move when Laughing Jack sidled behind him and parted his hair. He stayed very still, held his breath and glared at the ground, as Laughing Jack ran the rag across the cut on his head. It felt absolutely wrong, being in this vulnerable of a position, especially to a veritable stranger. No, it didn't _feel _wrong, it _was _wrong. He was already smaller than the others, and Laughing Jack was taller than them—and now Jeff sat, and he lowered his head and let Laughing Jack touch his wound. Yeah, it was wrong. He'd have to find an excuse (it wouldn't be hard) to fight Laughing Jack sometime soon—make sure his place was still stable. Jeff didn't think any of them could stand for their careful hierarchy to get thrown off anymore than it already was.

Except maybe Laughing Jack. He probably wanted to best Jeff—maybe Eyeless, too. The thought sparked up a fury. If it had been Masky or Hoodie or any of the others cleaning his head, it wouldn't be half so bad. They all accepted where they were—they were at peace with each other. They didn't fight. But _Jack. _The one person who hadn't decided his spot yet—the one person who was a threat to Jeff's leadership, and Eyeless sent him to manage Jeff.

Did Eyeless want Laughing Jack as his right-hand man? Jeff hadn't thought their fight had been anything major, but maybe it had been? Maybe Eyeless thought Jeff wasn't fit for the job anymore? Fear slithered down his spine. He couldn't—he couldn't loose his spot. His strength, his respect—the trust he saw in their eyes. He would probably die to get that look. Eyeless couldn't take it away from him. _Jack _couldn't take it away from him. He would have to prove himself again. He would have to beat Laughing Jack to a pulp—kill him, maybe. Then Eyeless would see Jeff was still fit to command. They would all feel safe again.

Because they didn't right now. They absolutely didn't.

"Hey."

Jeff turned his head fast enough that his neck cracked and his nose hit Laughing Jack's. The clown was leaned around him, their faces level, and his eyes were wide and curious. Jeff leaned away from him. "What?" he asked, as poisonously as he could.

"I said I was done. You were just staring off—you looked terrified." Laughing Jack laughed. "Was it that bad? Are you afraid of rags?"

"Apparently," Jeff muttered, scooting until there was a good five feet of space between them.

Laughing Jack frowned. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," Jeff said, wrinkling his nose—which still hurt—in scorn. "You said you'd leave me alone."

"Oh, right. Yeah. Okay."

Jeff sprawled back in the grass, crossing his arms behind his head and staring at the powder-blue sky and the insubstantial clouds that drifted across it. It seemed so...peaceful. Maybe it was. But it didn't feel like it. It felt threatening—but Jeff knew that was just him. And he was going to resolve it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen: **In Which There Are Plots

Jeff wondered how long it took to travel two hundred miles on foot. He assumed Eyeless knew, and he hoped it wouldn't take as long as he thought it would. They didn't stop for lunch that day—Eyeless said they should conserve while they could—and they ate dinner only once dark fell and Eyeless decided they should rest. They all heartily agreed and wolfed down sandwiches and water before laying in a broad circle. "No one thought to bring bug spray, did they?" Toby asked. There was a collective groan from the group.

The night was uncomfortable. It was hot and muggy and Jeff couldn't sleep with the sweat and mosquito bites that plagued him. So he thought. It probably wasn't healthy. _How are we gonna kill Jack?_ Jeff mentally clucked his tongue. _When? Soon. It has to be soon. I don't think I can put up with him much longer, and I want this to be...tasteful. Could do it tonight—hm. Maybe. But how? Are we going to kill him? Or just cripple him? Killing would be easier—but crippling might send a stronger message. And he might be useful when we need to steal stuff. So, crippling. That makes things a little more complicated—but we're just so clever._ Jeff grinned. _How do we want to cripple him? Has to be fast. He's pretty strong, and, well, he teleports. So we'll have to do it, quick, while he's sleeping. Cutting limbs off takes too long. Blind him? There's an idea. That would make him dependent—he doesn't have heightened senses like Eyeless. That might work._

_Anything else? Just to make double sure he won't be a threat? Can't think of anything quick...scar up his face, maybe, so whenever anybody looks at him they know who's strongest. What will Eyeless think? He'll be mad if we just do it out of random. Does it matter? Well, I guess. We're trying to prove ourselves—come on, we need to be clever about this, Jeffy. Ugh, why's it gotta be so hot? I can't fucking think._

_We could tell Eyeless that Jack scared us and we reacted. Jack'll protest, though, but Eyeless would listen to us. He trusts us more—as well he should. We're the only one who can be his right-hand. We earned it. But maybe he would still have some doubt—he knows we don't like Jack. We could wait for an excuse. Oh, who are we kidding? We don't have that kind of patience. And we don't want the others to start to look up to him. BEN already seems to. Provoke him into a fight—no, that won't work. Remember he teleports? We can't win fairly, because he won't play fairly. We have to a trickster._

_I think the scaring thing would work, if Jack's asleep. We can say we were having a nightmare or whatever and we thought he was threatening us. He can't protest that. We'll be apologetic, so everyone believes us—and they'll see how strong we are with our knife—and if we need to, we can fight Jack later. He'll be easier to beat. There—_

Something moved. Jeff caught it out of the corner of his eye, on his left side, where Laughing Jack was sleeping. He flicked his gaze that way, expecting to see Jack tossing in his sleep, but what he saw was much more horrific. His entire body went rigid and his eyes widened, adrenaline flaring off of his nerves—for about three seconds, before he realized what the monster squatting next to Jack was. Vaguely humanoid, twisted out of shape with pale skin and large eyes. Jeff wheezed out a breath and tried to relax his muscles. "Rake," he said, his voice dancing on the border of a squeak. "The hell, bro?"

"You stopppped," the Rake said, his voice high and wobbling. Beside him, Laughing Jack twitched and then lay very still. Jeff almost laughed. Bastard deserved it.

"Yeah, we have to sleep—wait, did fucking Slenderman send you?" Jeff sat. On his right side, Eyeless rolled over.

"Jeff? What?" he asked.

"It's the Rake. Get up," Jeff said.

"Yesss," the Rake said. "You cannot stopppp. Uppp, alllll."

"Do you know it?" Jack asked, his voice a quivering whisper.

Jeff smirked. "Yeah, dumbass. It's just the Rake. He's an old pal."

"Palll, yesss. Uppp."

"Rake," Eyeless said. The Rake's bulging, luminous eyes crossed Jeff to focus on him. "Why are you here? What do you mean?"

"Ssslender sssent. Not stoppp. Move away. Two hundred milesss. Leassst," the Rake said. He scrambled across Jeff's lap to crouch beside Eyeless, placing their faces inches from each other. "Uppp and move. At onccce."

From beside Eyeless there came a litany of artistically strung-together curses. The gist of the message was, "Bad Rake, why?"

"Well we'll figure that out, if you'll quit cussing," Eyeless said. Toby groaned in response, cracked his neck and sat, his hair tousled over wary eyes. Consciousness spread around the others in the circle, and Jeff enjoyed their expressions when they were startled from their sleep by the Rake. A widening of eyes, a stiffening of limbs or, in Masky's and Hoodie's case, a tightened grip on someone else. "Rake," Eyeless said, drawing the creature's drifting attention back from the others as they scooted closer.

"What?" the Rake said, in a tone that sounded complaining to Jeff.

"Quiet and sit," Eyeless said to the others, before they could begin muttering questions. "Rake, why are you here? Did Slenderman send you?"

The Rake sighed and admired his hands. "Yesss," he said, after a moment of silence. "Ssslender sssent."

"Why?" Eyeless asked. Beside Jeff, Laughing Jack scooted into the circle—uncomfortably close to him. Jeff inched closer to Eyeless.

"Ssstupid," the Rake sighed. "Sssaid two hundred milesss. You go now. Ssslender sssaid not ssstop."

"Why can't we stop? We have to sleep, Rake. He can't just—"

The Rake patted Eyeless's cheek. Eyeless screwed up his face but otherwise remained still. "Can do anywhat he want, ppproxy. He sssend me, he sssay, 'Watch them, Rake, they go two hundred. Fassst. Not ssstop except for maybe hurt.'" The Rake made a sound Jeff thought may have been laughter, but it sounded so gargled and butchered he couldn't be sure. "Cowsss hurt. Ssstupid."

"So you just sat and watched that?" Jeff demanded. Eyeless shot Jeff a warning glance.

The Rake tilted his head impossibly sideways. "Yesss." He stood, still hunched, and chattered intelligibly to himself for a moment, the pitch of his voice heightening and making Jeff cringe. Then he said, "Now you get up and go."

"Why does he want us to leave so bad, Rake?" Eyeless asked.

The Rake shrugged. "Never-no-mind. Go. Go, go." He gnashed his yellow teeth at them, thin drool leaking over his lips. "Or I hurt."

"Rake, we can't—" Eyeless started. The Rake screeched and Jeff clamped his hands over his ears, baring his teeth. The Rake had the most horrible, disfigured voice—Jeff thought his ears might start bleeding. At the very least, his brain would be turned to mash. "Alright, alright," Eyeless said, raising his voice to be heard over the wailing.

The Rake stopped and glowered. "Now," he said.

"You heard the monster," Eyeless sighed towards the others. "Grab your stuff."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen:** In Which Jeff Isn't the Only One Who Snaps

Once they were traveling, the Rake disappeared into the woods that had cropped up some two hours before. The mood that clung to the group was noticeably sour—waking up after such a horrible day to such a horrible creature tended to do that. And the Rake had ruined Jeff's plan. _Nah, don't think that. We can do it tomorrow—oh, wait, no we can't. Because we can't fucking stop._

"I can't believe him," BEN said, falling into step with Jeff. They both knew he wasn't talking about the Rake. No, the Rake was a pawn, just like them.

"Yeah, what can I say?" Jeff shook his head. "He's a monster, Benny. But what have we learned from this?"

BEN sighed miserably. "Don't trust monsters."

"Close. Don't trust anybody."

"But—what about everybody here?" BEN asked, looking around at their group, which had spread out. Masky and Hoodie lagged behind, clinging to each other's hands. Eyeless had drifted to the front and Toby walked not far behind him. Laughing Jack was somewhere behind Jeff—a fact which both pleased him (he was leading, not the clown) and unnerved him (what if Jack stabbed him in the back?).

"What do you think, BEN? They're all murderers," Jeff said.

"But they wouldn't kill us. We're brothers," BEN objected.

Jeff glanced down at him. He looked as disgruntled as any of them—ruffled hair trapped under his hastily pulled on hat, shoulders slumping and grass sticking to his clothes—but he looked sadder. Because of Jeff. Well, what did the kid want him to do? Lie? "I dunno," Jeff muttered. "Doesn't mean much in the long run."

BEN's eyes swung up to him, brightening with anger. "You only say that because you tried to kill Liu."

"Yeah, I did," Jeff said, narrowing his eyes. "So don't trust anybody, BEN. I'd probably kill you in a heartbeat if I thought it would benefit me in the long run. I betcha anybody else here'd do the exact same."

"No they wouldn't," BEN hissed. "They're not like you."

"What's like me, BEN?"

"A—a monster. A bloodthirsty, selfish, arrogant liar."

Jeff punched him. A fast, solid blow to his throat. Maybe kind of a dirty blow, because BEN wouldn't be up to defending himself anytime soon. Unfortunately, the sound of sudden coughing and wheezing whipped Eyeless's head around.

"BEN," Toby cried, jogging to their friend's side and lowering him to the ground. "Jeff, what the hell? Did you hit him? You fucking bastard." His body twitched and Jeff thought he would have scrambled to his feet and leaped if BEN hadn't been resting against him.

"Did you hit him?" Eyeless asked, glaring quite effectively for someone with no eyes from which to glare.

"Yeah," Jeff said.

"Why the hell, Jeff?" Eyeless demanded, then shook his head and looked at BEN. "Know what, never mind. Later." He crouched next to BEN and Toby and began murmuring to them.

"Why'd you do that?" Laughing Jack asked.

Jeff turned on him. "What the fuck's it even matter to you? Like you care. You shouldn't even be here. Dunno why the hell Slenderman sent you. Was it to keep watch on us? Are you working for him, too?" _That's it, that's it,_ he thought, a wild excitement leaping in him. _We'll fight now, now, this is a good excuse—or maybe even not an excuse. So much the better. Let's do it, let's do it, let's _cut_ him._ Jeff grinned and reached for his knife.

Laughing Jack held his hands out peaceably. "I'm not working for him, I swear," he said, keeping his dumb white eyes on Jeff's. He clucked his tongue after a second of appraisal. "Yeah, you're not dealing with this very well, are you?"

"Don't patronize me," Jeff snarled. "Why else the hell would he send a newbie? Nobody else here's one. You're his little spy, like the Rake, aren't you? Fucking take him back a message from me!" Jeff lunged, slashing at Jack's eyes—and meeting air as the clown vanished. _Fuck,_ he thought, his eyes widening. _How did we forget that?_ His baby was plucked from his grip and Jeff was fairly certain that was the straw that really broke the camel's back. After Jeff fell, the rest of them followed, like so many cleverly-placed dominoes.

The words Jeff shrieked when he saw his knife in Jack's hand—well, maybe they were words, maybe they weren't. Jeff just knew his throat was vibrating and when he jumped at Jack again, the clown didn't disappear. Rather, he scrambled to hide behind Masky and Hoodie—because, apparently, he thought Jeff was above hurting them. Normally this may have worked. Normally Masky wouldn't stand up to Jeff when he tried to circle around to get at Jack. But this wasn't normally.

Masky planted himself in front of Jeff. "Fuckin' move, Mask," Jeff said, looking over the dark head to watch Jack, who was still backing up. Masky shook his head. Jeff lifted his hand—he wasn't sure if he could have landed the blow, could have made himself be that shitty of a person even though the rage in his chest screamed _fuck them all._ However, Hoodie didn't seem to want to play with sureties. The second Jeff's hand moved Hoodie was on him, cracking a fist into his nose.

Jeff wailed as it bent unnaturally for the second time that day, certain that this time it was broken. He quit trying to express his fury with words and knocked Hoodie's legs out from under him. Hoodie grabbed his shirt and hauled Jeff down with him, rearing back a leg to get him in the stomach. Huffing out what air he had in his lungs, Jeff pushed himself up again and kicked Hoodie in the ribs. Hoodie twisted and grabbed Jeff's ankle, but when Jeff fell he drove his fist into the side of Hoodie's head. Hoodie cried out and his grip slackened, just before another weight was colliding with Jeff.

Masky managed to get Jeff on his back and popped him in the face, although he avoided the nose and went for the side of his eye. Before Jeff could push him off, another hand snagged the back of Masky's jacket and yanked him off. "Hey, let's chill out—"

"Don't fuckin' touch him," Jeff yelled, throwing himself at Jack. Jack abruptly released Masky, who darted to Hoodie's side. Jeff was surprised when his fist actually met flesh—it was only for a second, before Jack was gone again, but it gave him the tiniest bit of satisfaction.

It didn't last long.

Toby jumped on him. Like, literally. He threw his arms around Jeff's neck in a choke-hold and wrapped his legs around Jeff's waist. Jeff staggered backwards with the sudden weight and the arms around his throat tightened until he couldn't breathe. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he could see Hoodie advancing on Jack and he could hear BEN shouting at Eyeless—until his ears started to ring. He clawed at Toby's arms, trying to force air past the muscle and the bone pressing on his windpipe. He couldn't fucking breathe. Black spots danced mockingly in his vision. He could hear, faintly, that Toby was shouting, so close that lips brushed his ear. "Sucks, don't it?" Toby demanded. "This is what BEN felt, Jeff. Doesn't it hurt? Why did you hurt him? You motherfucking bastard, I _hope it hurts!_"

Jeff tripped and pushed his weight backwards, ramming Toby into the ground. The choke-hold loosened just the slightest bit and Jeff gulped what air he could manage before Toby tightened his arms again. Desperate, Jeff threw his elbow back into Toby's stomach. Toby didn't flinch, because _oh that's right, he can't fucking feel fucking pain._ Maybe Jeff would die. He thought maybe he would. Toby was like a pitbull—he wasn't letting go anytime soon. Jeff's vision was so tunneled when Toby was dragged away from him he didn't know who did the dragging—didn't care a lot, really. He rolled onto his stomach and wheezed, gagged, and then wheezed some more. After about ten seconds of that, someone kicked him in the mouth. Jeff recoiled, forcing himself up to tower over BEN, and wiped his teeth against his hoodie sleeve.

"BEN fucking Drowned, do not kick a man when he is down," Eyeless roared, dropping Toby and storming towards them. Hoodie seemed to have let off of his assault Jack and was huddled by Masky—Jack was a good distance away, staring at them. Toby was slumped on the ground now, although he still looked hostilely at Jeff, and BEN was still puffing himself up, trying to look intimidating—shoulders thrown back, eyes narrowed, ears back.

One of his ears twitched when Eyeless called, but he didn't look away from Jeff. He looked away some when Eyeless grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back. "Fuck you both," Eyeless hissed at them. He whirled on the entire group. "Fuck you all. Just—just—whatever. Do whatever the fuck you want. Kill each other. See if I care. I'm not doing this." He got to the point where he picked his bag up and threw it over his shoulder—he even took two steps away from them—but that was as far as he got. Then he sat and buried his face in his hands. And then he didn't move.

BEN's shoulders drooped with his ears. "Eyeless?" he asked, although his voice was too quiet and Eyeless too far for it to amount to anything. He looked at Jeff again. "Look what you did. Why do you always have to be such a bastard?"

Jeff was irritated to see tears forming in BEN's eyes. His jaw clenched. "What did I tell you, BEN? Everyone here'd kill you if they got the chance."

"No," BEN said. "They'd kill you. And you'd deserve it."

Jeff could see himself hitting BEN again—but he couldn't bring himself to. He was too tired. Not just from the fighting. From the walking and the bleeding and the not-sleeping and the emotion and then the fighting. He sat down, instead. "Why, BEN?"

"Because—because you're horrible," BEN said. "I mean, you're always mean, but—but Jeff. Do you just hate us now? Because Slender sent us all away? What did we do? We—"

"Shut up, BEN," Jeff said, gripping his hair. "I'm just trying to—to—"

"What? To tear us apart? 'cause you hate us?"

"No," Jeff said. "No, I'm trying to keep us together. I just—it's all so fucked up now. I hate it."

"Jeffy." BEN, to Jeff's horror, looked like a beaten puppy—they all did. Except maybe Jack. He just looked like a lost puppy. And Toby, like an angry pitbull puppy. BEN lowered himself to sit by Jeff and then crawled underneath his arm, sniffling. Jeff was frozen by the sudden change. He was sure no one had done this since—since they were little and had nightmares. He kind of...missed it. "I'm sorry," BEN said. "Shouldn't have called you a liar, or kicked you."

"Guess I shouldn'ta hit you. I don't know if what I said was wrong, but I didn't mean to make you upset."

"I lied," BEN said. "I wouldn't kill you. Nobody would."

Jeff scoffed. "I wouldn't say nobody."

"Most nobody here."

"Maybe."

"Maybe Toby," BEN said, smiling in that direction.

Jeff looked up at Toby's face, which had gathered a confused appearance—although it rapidly turned dark again when he saw Jeff's eyes on him. Jeff grinned. "Yeah, probably Toby."

"You should talk to Eyeless," BEN murmured, glancing at the hunched back of their friend. "I'm gonna go see Toby, okay?"

Jeff nodded and BEN crept away from him, leaving him free to stand and walk towards Eyeless—cautiously, very cautiously. He didn't want to be bitten again. "Eyeless?" he said.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen:** In Which Jeff Tries to Patch

Eyeless didn't stir when Jeff called him. Jeff wasn't sure if he was breathing—wait, yeah he was. His shoulders moved a little bit under his hoodie. Jeff opened his mouth to say something—what, exactly, he wasn't sure. He didn't really think before he spoke. Laughing Jack's voice interrupted him. "Hey, guys, that weird creature-thing is back."

Jeff glanced over and glared. The Rake was hovering at the edge of the wood, staring them down with enormous, unhappy eyes. "Eyeless, walk and talk?" Jeff offered, hesitantly extending a hand to his friend.

Eyeless, still without looking at any of them, stood and grabbed his bag with uncharacteristic anger in his movements. The others followed his lead and the Rake slid back into the woods. Jeff attempted to walk next to Eyeless, but their damn height difference made it difficult. Eyeless had almost a full head on him, and Jeff found himself trotting to keep up with Eyeless's stride—which was demeaning, but Jeff guessed he might kind of sort of deserve it. "Eyeless? Can we talk? Please?"

Eyeless stopped short and whipped his head around. Even though he didn't have eyes, Jeff thought the sockets were often enough to convey as much as an eye would. Usually, those sockets looked steady, peaceful—sometimes amused, sometimes irritated. But Jeff couldn't think of more then ten times Eyeless's sockets had looked this pained and furious. Maybe even not that many. "What?" Eyeless snapped. "What the hell do you want to talk about? How fucked up this all is? How quickly we can turn into fucking animals without Slender? How irresponsible we are? How immature and—and we're children. How we never fucking grew up—how reliant we've become on fucking Slenderman? How shitty of a leader I am? Do you want to fight about it? I don't. I don't fucking care, Jeff. So just fuck off."

Jeff stared at Eyeless's back as he whirled and stormed forward. _Well,_ he thought. _It's kind of weird being on the other side of things. How many times have we said that to Eyeless?_ He almost wanted to smile. But not really. Jeff jogged to catch up to Eyeless again and said, "No, that's not what I want to talk about. Mostly because none of it's true. Hey, could you at least slow down? I'm trying."

"Yeah, when it doesn't even matter anymore," Eyeless said, but Jeff chose to believe he slowed his gait a tiny bit.

Jeff kept his silence after that. Maybe Eyeless just needed a little quiet? It seemed reasonable to Jeff, after all the noise and emotion of the last twenty-four hours. But maybe that was just him? Maybe he should push Eyeless? Hell, he didn't know how to deal with all this emotional shit. They walked until the moon started falling towards the western sky and Jeff could see the green light of a city in the distance. Eyeless stopped, and Jeff copied. The others had fallen behind them—Jeff envied the lucky bastards. His legs were killing him, trying to keep up with Eyeless. "What?" Jeff asked.

Eyeless turned back towards him—his sockets were looser now, calmer. He shrugged off his bag and asked, "Could you carry this for me? I have to—ah, I'm—I'm starving. You don't mind?"

"Oh. No, yeah, definitely go." Jeff reached forward and took the bag, hooking it over his free shoulder. He rubbed the back of his neck before asking, quietly, "You comin' back?"

Eyeless raised an eyebrow. "Of course, stupid. I would take my bag with me if I was leaving."

"I dunno, you could have just felt guilty. It's not like you need the food in here."

"You have a point," Eyeless conceded. "But I'm coming back."

"Wouldn't blame you if you didn't," Jeff muttered.

Eyeless hooked him around the neck and dragged him forward so he could scrub Jeff's head with his knuckles. Jeff tried to wriggle away from him—to no avail. Damn him. "Can't get rid of me that easy, Jeffy-boy," Eyeless said when he released him.

Jeff pushed at Eyeless's arm when it continued to hang around his shoulders. "Go away," he said, smiling. "Go eat somebody."

"Will do," Eyeless said. "Cut around the city. Walk slow, so the Rake doesn't get on your case. I'll meet you on the other side. Get the others to eat breakfast."

"Got it," Jeff said. "Go straight through the city, quickly, ditch Eyeless, starve everybody."

Eyeless kept on the straight path to the city, and Jeff fell back to steer the others towards the side of it. They excepted his quick explanation without much question. They all looked miserable and exhausted, their steps slow and eyes downcast. Toby, Jeff noticed with a flash of worry, looked pale. _Probably we opened his wound again during the fight,_ he thought. Dammit. Well, Jeff wasn't about to do anything about it. If he tried he bet Toby would bite his head off. BEN seemed to have reached the same conclusion, but not to the same result.

"Jeff," he called. "Do you think we could stop for just a few minutes? At least put a bandage on Toby's side?"

And how could Jeff say no to a moment of rest? "Yeah," he said. "Hurry. And eat, too. Breakfast time, gents." He dropped his and Eyeless's bags onto the ground, rolling his shoulders and avoiding thinking of his nice, comfortable bed at the Mansion—because it was fucking Slender's mansion. He made himself a quick peanut butter sandwich and scarfed it, watching for the Rake. Masky and Hoodie had sagged to the ground and leaned heavily on each other while they ate, and Laughing Jack was miserably sucking on a lollipop. When the Rake appeared, Jeff gestured to BEN, Toby and the bandages. The Rake didn't acknowledge that, but he didn't move forward, either. Jeff drew their time out as long as possible, but eventually BEN had finished with Toby and they had both eaten—and the Rake wasn't stupid, so Jeff sighed and said, "Round 'em up and move 'em out."

It was a long, boring walk to the other side of the city. They trudged in silence, and it left Jeff with too much time to think about the fight. They hadn't had one like that in...forever. Not all of them together. _Slender hadn't kicked us out in forever_, he thought sourly. There were other things that begged to be thought about besides the fight, but Jeff refused to think about those. He didn't want to start handling those thoughts right now. He just didn't have the energy. Even his bellicose temper seemed to have been dampened by the anger the fight had held. Their fights usually had a point besides petty feelings—but this one didn't. It was just rage and sorrow and the fresh sting of betrayal and confusion and loss and all that fucking pleasant stuff. _Enough. No more thinking about that. It hurts our head. Let's go one thing at a time._

So—should he apologize for the fight? Any other time, that would seem laughable. He, Jeff the Killer, apologize? Never. But at any other time, he wouldn't feel so...wrong. The fight would have had purpose, and he would have won—one with Eyeless excepted. So had he been wrong to hit BEN? Well, maybe. BEN had been asking for it, though—_still not a good enough reason,_ he chastised himself. _We're a leader now. They look up to us. We've never abused them that...much—and we're not gonna start now. We have to be strong and good. Now, if Toby hit BEN because BEN insulted him would you be mad. Er...no. That's how we solve things. What if Toby hit Eyeless? Eyeless would hit him back. Obviously. So I did nothing wrong. Toby's just being a brat._

_Not to say we can't convince him to be a little less hostile. We could fight him again—but it's unfair. He'd be bitter. We could tell him how stupid he's being about the whole thing. We've already made up with BEN, so why should Toby still be mad? He's just making things uncomfortable._

_Oh, and we should talk to Masky and Hoodie. It was wrong to even think about hurting Mask—I guess we don't blame Hoodie for defending him. We would do the same thing, and we're not even in love with him. Ugh, I hate talking with people like this. It makes us seem stupid. Which we're not. And what about the clown? _The thought sent a snake of irritation across his shoulders._ The Rake fucked us up. Not next time. Next time we'll get him—and we'll have an excuse. That thought erased the irritation. We'll say we thought he was working for Slender, so we blinded him so he couldn't spy. Good, good. Now we just need to find a time when we can cut him—but we're not going to be able to sleep. Fuckin' hate Slender_.

Jeff reined his thoughts in before they could cut down that path. Unruly little bastards. To distract himself and get one weight off of his shoulders, Jeff dropped back to walk beside Masky and Hoodie, placing himself on Hoodie's side. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," Hoodie said, looking at him. Jeff really hated the masks sometimes. It made it difficult to have an accurate conversation.

"You know I'd never...hit Masky, right?" Jeff said, after an awkward pause.

Hoodie was quiet a moment, although Masky bent forward to look at Jeff and nodded. "No, I don't," Hoodie said.

Jeff resisted the urge to flinch. "Well—I never would. Ever-ever."

"You looked like you were about to," Hoodie said.

His voice was muffled through his mask, but Jeff thought he sounded defensive. So, using the (very few) people skills that Eyeless had ingrained into him, Jeff tried to dissuade that feeling. It wouldn't be conducive to patching up injuries. "No, yeah, you're right. I don't blame you for hitting me. I probably deserved it. But—hey, you know how I get." Jeff grinned cheekily.

"Yeah," Hoodie muttered. "That's why I was worried."

"I know, I know. You were right. I'm not mad or anything. I just don't want you to be mad at me. Or you, Masky. I'm sorry. For scaring you and hitting Hoodie."

Masky reached around Hoodie to pat Jeff's shoulder, a silent comfort that made Jeff's heart that little bit lighter. He smiled as gently at he could—which, admittedly, was not very gentle, given the mad grin he'd carved into his face. But it was the thought that counted, right? "Well," Hoodie said, sighing. "If Masky forgives."

"You do too?" Jeff asked, looking over at Hoodie. Fuck, but the kid was getting tall. Almost taller than Jeff now.

"Yeah," Hoodie said. "I guess I might have overreacted."

"Not at all," Jeff said. "I would have done the same thing."

"And thanks. For that. Couldn't keep Mask out of trouble on my own," Hoodie said, glancing at Masky, who tilted his head back at them like an innocent kitten—who just happened to have shredded the curtains, fully aware that he would get away with it, because people just couldn't stay mad.

Jeff rolled his eyes. "Doubtless."

They curved around the city within the next two hours. They waited a wide distance away from the highway out of the city, laying in the grass and waiting for the Rake or Eyeless to appear—whichever came first. To their delight, Eyeless did. They greeted him enthusiastically, as though three hours' separation had simply been unfathomable—and maybe it was. To have lost so many of their own in so short a time—well, it made letting each other out of their sights that much harder. Eyeless himself was in much better spirits, and he led them back towards the city with a happy grin. "Wait until you see what I got us," he said, urging them along quicker with an energetic spring in his step.

On the north side of the city there was a smaller road. This was where Eyeless had hidden his surprise. When Jeff saw it, he had to admit it made the entire world brighter. "Well?" Eyeless demanded. "What do you think? How awesome am I?"

"Eyeless," Jeff said. "You're a helluva leader."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: So this chapter was hurriedly posted in a McDonald's parking lot and therefore is unedited, so I apologize for any mistakes! Thank for reading :D**

**Chapter Sixteen:** In Which There Are Vans, Toll Booths, and Texas

Eyeless bowed, sweeping one arm out dramatically. "Why thank you, kind sir."

"Where'd you get it? How'd you get it? How many seats does it have? Can I drive? Ooh, can I, can I, can I—"

"BEN," Jeff said, although he was far too delighted to be annoyed by BEN's curiosity.

Heedless of this, Toby said, "Lay off, Jeff."

"Would you get over it already, fucking brat?" Jeff asked.

"You hit—"

"Yeah, and you choked."

"Alright, ladies," Eyeless interrupted. "Bitch at each later. Right now we have to bask in the glory of the van."

Aesthetically speaking, said van was incredibly ugly. Jeff supposed that at one point it had been white, but now it had faded to a dull yellowy-gray—where it still had paint. There was a nasty dent in its right side and it was missing a bumper and, Jeff suspected, a headlight. The inside, which BEN was already crawling around in, looked like it was shades of gray. The windows were heavily tinted and the front passenger window had been shattered out. "So where did you get it, Eye?" Jeff asked, watching as Toby clambered in after BEN—mindless of his injury and probably reopening it a third time. Masky and Hoodie poked their heads in a second later.

"In the city, at some place that had a lot of them," Eyeless said.

"Jeez, specific much?"

"I didn't really care. I saw it and I was like—yeah, getting it. It's pretty old, so it was easy to hotwire. It's a ten-passenger. We can put a tarp up over the window and we're peachy. You wanna drive? I don't trust BEN."

Jeff snorted and shook his head. "No, man, I'm gonna sleep."

"Oh, don't be such a sissy," Eyeless said. "I got the van, you drive it. It'll take—what, on this road, four hours, tops, to go two hundred miles. And we've already walked, like, thirty."

"Whatever, fine," Jeff huffed. "Let's go."

They piled into the van, throwing their bags onto the floor. Eyeless turned the car on and then took the passenger seat. Masky and Hoodie cuddled together in the bench seat behind the front seats, and Toby and BEN took the seats behind that, and Laughing Jack lay on the farthest bench. Jeff had hardly gone ten miles before Eyeless's head was tipped back against the seat, his breathing slow. Checking his rearview mirror, Hoodie and Masky were equally still, Toby's eyes were drooping shut behind his goggles, and BEN's head rested on his shoulder. He couldn't see Laughing Jack, but Jeff assumed he was asleep or near there, too. Lucky bastards.

Yawning wide enough to pull on the cuts by his mouth, Jeff shut the air conditioner off—because there really was no point in running it with the gaping hole next to Eyeless's head. The air that blew in from the not-window was summer warm, but still cooled with dawn. As the sun arced further up in the east, the wind warmed with it and quickly became sticky. _Fucking humidity,_ Jeff thought, scowling. On the bright side, Jeff thought they might leave the Rake behind. It would be nice to finally be loose of all ties to fucking Slenderman. _But we never will be,_ he thought._ Not as long as we travel with these guys. Well, we're not going to fucking leave them just because of fucking Slenderman. He doesn't have the kind of control over our life anymore. Didn't ever fucking deserve it. Why the hell did we ever agree?_ Jeff almost laughed. _We're such an idiot. Fucking should have died._

_No, no, no,_ he thought towards himself, grinning. _Fucking slaphappy. Need to sleep. Oh, we were thinking about something. What were we—oh yeah, yeah. Well, we got some good stuff out of agreeing. It kind of worked out well. We got Eyeless and all the others to keep us safe, and we're on our own again. We're free. We're actually free._

_No we're not. Not as long as we have these guys. They're ours, and we're theirs, and that means we're not free. Well...it's a nice kind of prison. And we're free to leave them whenever we want._ This time Jeff did chuckle. _No we're not. Even if we tried I don't think we could. We're in too deep. Eyeless is right—they're our family. The best family. They've chosen to walk with us, so we never have to hurt them. Good, good._ His thoughts trailed off into a faint, not-quite-English place. Images and memories and half-formed understandings. It was a long, confusing four hours. Jeff wasn't even sure if he was really awake. The hum of the road and the warmth of the sun lulled him into a half-aware state. At one point he nearly ran them off the road, and after that he was slightly more alert, watching the clock as it ticked towards noon.

Jeff pulled off onto the side of the road somewhere around eleven thirty. Even if they hadn't gone two hundred miles yet, Jeff was certain they'd left the Rake behind them. He tried to kick his seat back, but it stuck. Growling to himself like a mad dog, Jeff struck the horn. The resulting beep startled his companions awake. Eyeless almost jumped out the window. "What?" he asked, his voice stiff.

"My fucking seat won't go back," Jeff said.

Eyeless sank back into his seat. "Sleep in another seat. There's lots of room."

Jeff crawled over Masky and Hoodie and BEN and Toby and hovered over Laughing Jack to look in the back of the van, hoping to find an empty space—but no. Laughing Jack's, BEN's, and Toby's bags clustered the floor there in uncomfortable lumps. "Here," Laughing Jack mumbled, tucking his legs up. Jeff weighed his yearning for a comfortable spot against his dislike of Jack before he curled up on the other end of the bench seat and buried his face against the fabric to block out the light.

When he woke up, his blanket was bunched around his shoulders and it smelled like the Mansion and he swore he could hear the others downstairs. Was it all just—no. Twisting his head around, Jeff saw the dim back of a gray bench seat and felt a pool of misery sink deeper into his stomach before it was evaporated by a blast of rage. Why should he feel sorry about leaving the Mansion? Why would he want to live with a fucking traitor like Slenderman? Wriggling against the seat, Jeff stretched out his muscles before curling up again. At some point his shoes had been taken, his pillow stuffed under his head and his blanket draped over him. It was kind of disturbing that he slept that deeply. Laughing Jack had disappeared, too. From the low chatter in front of him, Jeff guessed he was in the front with Eyeless—which he knew should have made him furious, but he was so warm and comfortable. They had probably already been talking for a while—what was a few more minutes?

Jeff must have fallen asleep again, because when he rolled over on the seat it was even darker than before. The van had quieted, and Jeff found Laughing Jack sitting at his feet and looking at him. "What?" he snapped, pushing his blanket off.

"You're awake."

"What an observation."

"You slept a long time," Jack said.

"So sorry."

"No, it's not a bad thing, it's—You know, you're really hard to converse with."

"Everyone else manages fine," Jeff said. He threw his blanket and pillow into the back of the van and frowned when it huffed at him.

"That's where Eyeless was sleeping," Jack murmured.

Jeff stuck his head over the seat. "Morning, Eye," he said. Eyeless grumbled unintelligibly at him, pulling Jeff's blanket around himself. The bags had been moved, giving Eyeless a wide, empty space to snooze on—lucky. "What time is it?" he asked, looking around the van. They were moving again—Hoodie was driving, his hood and mask pushed away from his face. Masky, too, had his mask off and sat in the passenger seat. Toby and BEN were still in the same seat, leaving the front bench seat filled with bags. The clock glowed the numbers 9:43 back at Jeff in bright green.

"Almost ten o'clock," Jack said. "You missed lunch and dinner. Eyeless said not to wake you up. Hungry?"

"BEN, pass me my bag," Jeff said. BEN did. Jeff shuffled through it until he found a bag of Doritos and a soda, which he greedily set upon. Between mouthfuls, he asked, "Where are we going?"

"Still south," Toby said—because apparently Toby was talking to him again.

"When are we gonna stop?" Jeff asked.

"Dunno. Hoodie?" Toby looked towards the front of the van.

Hoodie shrugged. "Ask Eyeless. I'm just driving."

"Don't ask Eyeless," Eyeless mumbled. "Eyeless's sleeping."

"You got to sleep this morning. Get up. Where are we going?" Jeff asked, reaching over the seat to tug Eyeless's dark hair.

Eyeless pulled Jeff's blanket over his head. Jeff heard him inhale. "This smells like the Mansion," he said.

Jeff winced. "Yeah, I know."

"Miss it," Eyeless said. "Whatever. Hood, where are we?"

"BEN's got the GPS," Hoodie said.

"Um, looks like we're right at the Oklahoma-Texas border. There should be a toll booth soon. Hoodie, got money?" BEN asked.

"Yeah," Hoodie said. "Dunno if it's enough, though."

"Here's another five." BEN stretched across the seats to hand Masky the bill.

"Are we staying in Texas?" Jack asked.

"Maybe," Eyeless said. "I'm really not planning this. I'm just doing."

"Hey, that's my thing," Jeff protested.

Eyeless grunted. "I just want to get as far away as possible. BEN, Jeff, climb on back here. You too, Jack. Toby, you got your goggles off? Good. Look normal."

The back of the van was not made to fit four people comfortably. Jeff wound up squashed against Eyeless and half underneath Jack, and he thought that BEN's head was resting on his leg but he couldn't see through Jack so he wasn't sure. It wasn't awful—Jeff actually happened to like close spaces. They were safer. Closed-in, small, so you could see everything there. So it wasn't totally horrible being compacted against the floor—nice, maybe, a feeling of closeness he hadn't known he'd been missing since they left the Mansion. Jeff was almost disappointed when they made it through the toll booth and returned to their seats.

"Well," Eyeless said, his nostrils flaring. "Texas doesn't smell much different than Oklahoma. Does it look different?"

"Nope," the group answered.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen: In Which There Is Eavesdropping

Shortly after they entered Texas, Hoodie pulled the van over and they settled in for the night. Eyeless had refused to let Jeff sleep in the hatch with him, which both made Jeff suspicious and put him next to Laughing Jack again. After a few minutes consideration, Jeff thought it wasn't that bad. Jack kept himself tucked up on his side of the seat, and Jeff did the same, so they were hardly touching. And, he thought with a spark of glee. We can stab him tonight. Ooh, we can, we can. We're already so close. We'll have to face away from the seat, so we can reach our knife. and move quick. But that won't look suspicious to Jack—he doesn't know how we sleep, really.

So Jeff curled up with his back against the seat and waited. There was more shifting around than usual in the van—a lack of activity had left all of them with energy to spare, though Eyeless insisted they sleep anyway. It took what felt like hours for the shifting to die down, and Jeff waited a while longer to be sure before he gently coaxed his baby out of its sheath and propped himself up on his elbow. Jack's eyes were closed—really, Jeff was glad he didn't have eyelids. It made everyone look so vulnerable when they shut their eyes—Jeff would hate to look like that. Right across his eyes, he thought. Quick and sharp.

Jeff started to push himself further up, cautiously, trying to keep his movement from disturbing the clown. As it turned out, he needn't have bothered, because a second later a low voice whispered, "Toby?" Jeff nearly had a heart attack and sunk back down onto his seat, looking warily towards Jack's face and then BEN and Toby's seat. Jack's eyes had slanted open, and the moonlight reflected eerily off of his white irises. He furrowed his brow at Jeff and Jeff shook his head, pressing a finger to his lips and listening for Toby and BEN, in case he hadn't just been hearing things.

"What?" Toby's voice said, short and rough and equally quiet.

"Are you okay?" BEN asked.

"Yeah, fine," Toby said.

"Are you...crying? Toby? What's wrong?" Jeff heard shuffling and faint creaking as BEN moved.

"Nothing," Toby said. "Go back to sleep. I'm fine."

"No, you're not," BEN said. "None of us are. But it's gonna be okay."

"BEN, don't—get off."

"I'm hugging you," BEN protested. "It's okay."

Toby sighed faintly. "No. It's not."

"But it will be. I know so."

"How do you know so?" Toby asked, his voice grim. "How can it be?"

"We have each other," BEN said. "We're family, and that's all that matters. We have food and shelter and love. I mean, sure, it hurts now but time heals all wounds."

Toby was silent for a moment. "BEN, that's possibly the stupidest thing you've ever said. Have you seen Jeff's face? Eyeless's? Have you seen our hearts? Time doesn't do shit. Masky still can't even talk, and how many years has it been since—you know."

Jeff stiffened at the mention of "you know." Yeah, they all knew. They were all there when Masky came back, some year and a half ago. How could they ever forget? But they never spoke about it. Not even Slender. It was a wound they all skirted around. For Toby to bring it up—it spooked Jeff. Was their situation so bad that the horror of Masky's ordeal faded? "I know," BEN murmured. "But this isn't half as bad as that. All things considered, it's pretty good. Sure, we lost Slender and the Mansion—but look what we still have. Lots of things."

Toby was quiet again, although, if he strained his ears, Jeff could hear the occasional hitch in his breathing. "I hate him," Toby said.

"That's okay," BEN said. "I—I don't like him much either."

"I want to kill him."

BEN laughed softly. "Good luck. No—seriously don't do that."

"I know," Toby said. "It wouldn't work. But—but he was—was like a—our d-dad, BEN."

"Shh, I know," BEN said.

"And I want to k-kill him. Like my r-real dad. Except now I don't even have an excuse except for I hate him," Toby hissed. BEN hummed. "You know I used to pretend Slender was the only reason I killed—but now I can't. Now I can't, BEN. And I'm scared and I hate. I haven't hated in a long time. My head's so empty, BEN." Toby moaned. "And I h-hate that I m-miss him. Thought he l-loved us. So fuckin' stupid. Monsters can't love. We can't love, BEN."

"Shut up," BEN said. "Of course we can. We all love each other."

"Well we thought Slender loved us, too," Toby snapped, sniffling furiously and cracking his neck. "See how well that turned out."

BEN hit Toby—or at least, from what Jeff could hear, that was what he did. "We can to love. I love you, Toby. And I love Eye and Masky and Hoodie and Jeff and—and, well, maybe not Jack. I don't know him. But you're my fucking family, so don't tell me I can't love you. Okay? Okay, Toby?"

"Okay, okay," Toby said.

"Just because Slender sent us away doesn't mean our relationship changes," BEN said.

Toby scoffed. "Uh, yeah it does. Were you there for the giant fight the other night?"

"Everyone's just really on edge, Tob," BEN said. "We'll get through it together, and everything will be like normal."

"Whatever you say, Benny," Toby murmured.

"I'm always right."

"Of course. You can go sleep now. I'll be fine. Um—thanks."

"Anytime. Seriously, Toby," BEN said, the seat creaking again as he moved back to his side. "If you ever need anything—what are friends for? Sleep good."

"You too," Toby said. There was a hesitant pause before he added, "Love you, BEN."

"Love you too, Toby."

Jeff curled up tighter and slid his knife back into its home at his side. At his feet, he could see that Jack's eyes were still open and looked...sad. When he noticed Jeff looking at him, he mouthed, Need a hug?

Jeff curled his lip back and glared. Fucking bastard. Jeff considered kicking him, but he didn't want to disturb the rest of the van, so he turned his face into his arm and tried to fall asleep.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen: In Which There Are Weeks and Grief

The next week passed without incident. They siphoned enough gas for the van to roam the entire eastern border of Texas, searching for the perfect hideout. The second week reminded them of the fact that they were killers. Jeff had started craving a job, so he told Eyeless. Eyeless said he could wait, because they had more important matters—like the cops, who had been tracking them for the last two days. Not for the fact they were murderers, no, but for the fact that they had been spotted siphoning gas. Eyeless had them patching the van window, wandering around south-eastern Texas and laying low during that time. When Jeff's stomach had started to hurt, he had complained. Eyeless had been sympathetic, but insisted it would be too dangerous for him to have a job. The next two days sucked. Jeff curled up in the back of the hatch and moaned about his stomach so pathetically that Eyeless and Jack had lain next to him. Jeff tried to stab Jack. That night Eyeless released him, and he did his job savagely and thoroughly. By the time he was done, he had six kidneys for Eyeless, a wet red hoodie, and three gorgeous, smiling corpses he left for the police. Laughing Jack had gone out two nights later. He brought them back sodas and books—the books had a few bloodstains on them, but were otherwise in good condition. He brought Jeff a phone.

The third week they pretended they weren't killers. They sequestered themselves to the coast of the Gulf of Mexico, because they all agreed that they wanted to settle near the ocean. It made Jeff feel a little like a teen in a movie—the bright sunshine and blue skies, the waving palm trees and neat little box homes. They only ever got out of the van when they were scouting, in groups of two, or if it was nighttime and nobody else was around. One night—Jeff didn't know what night it was, he lost track of the days—Eyeless had let them all out on a desolate piece of the beach near midnight. The moonlight glittered on the waves and turned the sand gray and black. They had swam in the cold ocean in the warm night, laughing and splashing each other. It had been incredibly nice. No worries about Slender, or their emotional instability—it had been normal, safe, happy. By the time Jeff sloshed out of the water, his eyes stung and he was tired, but he hadn't felt so good in a long time. He didn't even mind Jack so much.

The fourth week Toby and BEN found a hideout. They told the others all about it in excited voices—big, old, abandoned, in the middle of nowhere, perfect. They visited it the next night, and Jeff thought things were looking up. It was an old, two-story warehouse, home to only sparrows and snakes. They set up there, parked the van in the back and threw a tarp over it. They each marked out their own space and threw up flimsy walls with some wood forms they stole from a hardware store in town. The second floor was for rooms, the first floor for anything else.

The fifth week Jack—who was proving himself an adept thief—brought them a flat screen TV, Xbox, movies, and popcorn. BEN had insisted they have a movie night. Jeff had sprawled out his blanket between Eyeless and Jack. He was proud enough of Jack's accomplishment to allow him to lay with them and to consider letting him live with his eyes intact. After all, if he was blind, he wouldn't be such a good thief.

The sixth week they watched a rodeo from outside the stands and Jeff went out on another job.

The seventh week and the summer was starting to cool into autumn. They had a birthday party for Toby, with cake and balloons provided by Jack. It was one of the first times Toby had honestly smiled-big and stupid, like he used to-in almost two months. Jeff thought he might be able to live with Jack—so long as he didn't try to steal Jeff's position.

At the end of the eighth week Jeff disliked Jack again. It happened like this: Jeff had been walking to his room to change out of his shirt, which had gotten milk on it in the process of making dinner. His room was adjacent to Eyeless's, so on his way back downstairs he stuck his head into Eyeless's room to tell him dinner was almost ready. He found their fearless leader squashed into the far corner of his room, clutching his hoodie to his chest. Jeff sat by him until he cracked and ranted about Slender. Jeff's heart hurt for Eyeless—as far as he knew, Slender was the only creature on the face of the planet Eyeless would ever think of as close to father. To have that ripped away—well, it enraged Jeff, and he had only known Slender for some four years. Eyeless had been living with him since he was itty-bitty, and now—well, Jeff didn't envy Eyeless's heartbreak. He could only press close to his friend and fiddle with dark hair while Eyeless snarled and bore his teeth and mourned for the loss of father and home.

After, when Eyeless had calmed, he returned Jeff's gesture and worked knots out of his hair. "We need to take showers," he muttered.

"Yeah. How?" Jeff asked.

"Dunno," Eyeless said. "We could have Jack steal soap or whatever and go down to the creek."

"Sounds good to me. I'll tell Jack," Jeff said. When Eyeless finished smoothing his hair out, Jeff went to get dinner and found Jack waiting by the staircase. "Hey, just the guy I wanted to see," Jeff said, brushing past him. "Eyeless wants—"

"Yeah, I know," Jack said, following him.

Jeff stopped and Jack ran into his back. "What do you mean, you know?"

"I, uh, I heard. You and Eye. I'll get the stuff, don't worry—but Jeff, I mean, you know," Jack said, pausing to clear his throat, "um, I know everybody's still torn up about the Slenderman thing. I didn't really know him, so I'm not so bad off—but you knew him a long time, and I mean, if you need to talk or whatever—"

Jeff snorted and glared over his shoulder. "One: it's fucking not nice to eavesdrop. Two: why the hell would I need to talk?"

"Well, you have to be a little torn up too—"

Jeff groaned and resumed walking. "I'm fine," he said, heading for the designated kitchen-area. BEN was already there, stuffing his face.

"No, you're not," Jack said.

Jeff frowned. "Um, yeah I am." He grabbed a plate from the box in the corner. "I think I'd know."

"Eyeless says you bury stuff a lot—or, you know, turn it into anger. It's about the authority thing, isn't it? You—"

"Shut up," Jeff snapped, turning and glowering. BEN paused in his eating and watched them with his ears set warily back. "Why the fuck have you been talking about me?"

"We're friends, we talk," Jack said, shrugging. "But it's not nice to keep things bottled up inside—I won't think any less of you if you want to talk. We can go somewhere private—"

Jeff wasn't sure if he was mortified or furious or both. Probably both. And BEN was listening, what the fuck would BEN think? He'd have to try and salvage what pride he could. "Fuck off, Jack," he snarled.

Jack didn't look surprised or injured, or anything like what Jeff had hoped for. He said, "It's okay, I promise. Nobody will think you're weak—"

"Because I'm not fucking weak." Jeff lunged for him, only to come to the predictable result that Jack avoided him by teleporting.

"Guys—" BEN started.

"Shut the fuck up," Jeff snapped over his shoulder. BEN flinched.

Jack appeared between him and BEN, white eyes serious. "Eyeless said you never used to be so mean," Jack said. "I mean, he said you always had a temper and wouldn't hesitate to hurt—but it was never this quick of a temper and this bad of a hurt. Everything you're keeping inside, it's messing up your thinking. Look at BEN. He probably thinks you'll hit him if he doesn't shut up. BEN, could you go? Jeff and I are going to talk."

"No we're not. BEN, don't listen to him."

BEN froze and looked back and forth between them. "Go on, BEN," Jack said.

"Stay, BEN," Jeff said. "He's not the boss."

"You think I'm trying to be—"

"I know you are, you fucking bastard. And you're not. I am. I have been for years. They're my family. BEN, sit down."

BEN started to drift back towards the table. "BEN, please," Jack said. "We need to talk. Jeff, I know that, I'm not trying to take them—"

"I hate fucking liars."

"Guys," BEN said, clutching his head. "Please, can we quit?"

"I'm not lying, I swear—BEN, I really need to talk to Jeff, please go."

"BEN—" Jeff started, but BEN dropped his plate on the table with a clatter and bolted for the stairs. Jeff bore his teeth. _Damn it all to hell._ His anger seared a hole into his ribcage. "Now looking what you fucking did," he hissed at Jack. He wanted to kill, wanted to stab and tear and taste blood and feel flesh tear and see his blade all pretty, see his strength sprawling out on the floor. But he couldn't. He knew that. And it was making the anger so much worse. It had no release, there was no relief. Not with this damn clown—this damn clown who was trying to control his family, to steal them and leave him empty-handed and alone. _No_. The horror of the thing fed his rage. It must have shown in his eyes for a second, because Jack's face changed. It looked sadder.

"Jeff," he started, reaching for Jeff's shoulder. The thought of that hand touching him made Jeff's stomach turn. He backed away, felt anger with himself for yielding and then decided all he wanted was to be left alone. He didn't even want to fight now. His stomach was twisting, his throat felt tight with panic. When he slipped around Jack and headed for the stairs, the clown let him. He hid in his room and tried to feel normal.

The first day of the ninth week their little attempt at a normal world was shot to hell. Because they never could be happy, could they?


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: I finally have wifi at my house! I'm so ridiculously happy. Updates should be way more regular than they have been, and I'll be going back through some earlier chapters to polish them up (finally.) Thank you for all the reviews, and I'm sorry I haven't been updating very often. But here's the next chappie, so enjoy :D**

**Chapter Nineteen:** In Which Jeffrey Woods is Fucking Kidnapped (Again)

Jeff had been sleeping when they broke in. They didn't have beds, but Jack had stolen blankets and pillows and those, combined with Jeff's from home, made a suitable nest. He had fought with himself and his fear and anger and the jumble of everything he didn't understand until he was exhausted. He wasn't sure when he fell asleep, but he knew when he woke up, because he was suffocating. There was something held over his mouth and nose, something that smelled sickly-sweet, and that was all he had time to register before he was gone again.

The second time he woke he was hardly there, and just long enough to have a rag pressed over his face again.

The third time was the longest time he was awake. He had a blistering headache and he tried to reach for his head, only to find that his arms were secured. This in itself sent a bolt of fear down his spine to his stomach, but that fear manifested tenfold when he saw what restrained him. _A straitjacket. They think we're insane, we're mad—we're not we're not we're not we're n—_shortly after the panicked thoughts forced themselves into his skull, Jeff started shouting. _We're not insane, we're not they're wrong._ He wasn't sure if he was yelling words at all, or just speaking in the primitive noises of a trapped, injured animal. He just knew this emotion of terror was so much larger than anger, and so much more dangerous to himself, his sanity _that we still have, it never left, we're sane._

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, the straitjacket was the only precaution they seemed to take on him. The wall he leaned against was not padded, but a solid concrete—so he threw his head back against it, and it only took three tries for him to make the world disappear again. When he woke the fourth time his head remained painful, and his arms were still pressed into his stomach by the jacket and a fine tremor worked its way through his body—but he kept a hold on himself enough to observe his surroundings. _Focus, Jeff, focus a little._

He was still in the concrete room. It wasn't large—ten by fifteen feet, maybe. He was held to the wall by a set of chains that hooked above his shoulders and beside his hips, crossing over his chest. And he realized, with a flood of relief, that he was not alone in the room. Running his gaze earnestly over each of them, he determined that everyone was in the room but Jack. _Goodie,_ Jeff thought—maybe a little hysterically, but it wasn't_ that_ bad—_If I can't catch him neither can they._ Who they were Jeff had no idea—but he didn't like them.

"Jeff?" a small, rough voice asked—but Jeff would recognize it anywhere. It was his brother's, after all.

"Yeah?" Jeff asked, looking towards Toby.

He sat against the wall, in a similar straitjacket, his face naked and creased with worry. "Where are we?" Toby asked.

"Dunno," Jeff said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. My head hurt earlier, but it's fine now. What about you? You hit your head really hard."

"I was—yeah, I did. It still hurts, but I'm fine."

"Okay. What about the others? They've been out for a long time."

Jeff strained his legs to lean forward and look at them all. "I think they're fine. They're breathing."

"I'm okay," Eyeless murmured from his spot across the room. "I just don't—feel so well." He giggled lightly. "I-I bit them."

"That's nice, Eye," Jeff said. "But I think they gave you something. Sleep it off."

In the next hour, Eyeless dozed off again, and the others woke up. They were all disoriented, but between Toby and Jeff they calmed and centered themselves quickly. Well—Masky excepted. Hoodie had to speak constantly to him, and even then he wouldn't stop shaking, although his whimpers died off. The rest of the day, or night, or whatever time passed, was a waiting game that put them all on edge. They kept expecting someone to come in and threaten and hurt them—but no one did. Eyeless jerked awake with a violent start around the same time Jeff began getting tired. He was quiet for a moment, before he wailed, flung his head back against the wall and said, "They took my hoodie."

"I don't think you slept it off, Eye," Jeff said. "It's okay. We can get a new one."

"No we can't," Eyeless insisted, rubbing the back of his head against the concrete. "That one's special."

"We can get it back, then," Jeff said. Eyeless seemed mollified by that idea, although he still fidgeted uncomfortably. "Eyeless, go back to sleep," Jeff suggested. "The rest of you, too. I'll watch and wake you up if anything happens. You know, if it doesn't wake you up while it's happening."

The others resisted the idea some, but within the next two hours they all drifted. Eyeless continued waking at random points and mourning his hoodie before passing out again. When Jeff's body felt tired enough that he knew that if he had eyelids they would be straining to shut—that was when they came. The door near the front of the room swung open, startling Jeff and BEN and Eyeless, who sat nearest it. It was unnecessary for Jeff to wake the others, who also jerked and snapped their eyes towards the door.

Three people stepped inside from the doorway—two men and a woman, all dressed in neat white coats and carrying hospital smell all over them. Eyeless's breathing sped up. The women stepped forward, a clipboard clamped to her chest. "It's alright," was the first thing she said. Damn liar. "I know you're probably scared, but I assure you, we mean you no harm. My name is Emily Burns, and I'm a member of the EMFP. We are going to help you, and then you're free to go. So there's no reason to be afraid. We'll start your procedures this afternoon, but we have breakfast coming soon." _Breakfast? What day is it?_ _How long have we been here? _Jeff thought. "First on our list is—Eyeless Jack. Is that you? Oh, there's no reason to be scared." Burns's voice took on an annoying, maternal tone as she knelt in front of Eyeless and Jeff felt a surge of anger towards her, because Eyeless was _his_ big brother and _nothing_ to her.

"Get away from him, bitch," he snapped, jerking against the chains that strapped him to the wall. One of the men crossed the room in a few decisive strides and cracked Jeff across the face with the butt of the rifle he held.

"Jonah," Burns gasped. "Don't you dare. He's hardly more than a boy."

Jonah glared at her. So did Jeff. "So far as I'm concerned, long as he's got that hell-mark he's a monster through and through. I won't tolerate any bitching from him. Got it, boy?" He glanced back down at Jeff, who stuck out his tongue and earned himself another strike.

"Stop _hitting_ him," Eyeless shouted, yanking against his own chains. The rest of the room followed his lead, their voices rising against the white-coated people until Jonah pistol-whipped Jeff a third fucking time and stormed from the room, followed by an apologetic, purse-lipped Burns and an irritated, sallow-skin man. "Okay, Jeffy?" Eyeless asked when the room quieted.

"Yeah," Jeff said, spitting a mouthful of blood off to his side. "You?"

"As fine as possible under the circumstances," Eyeless said. He took a deep breath. "Alright. Listen up." Ten eyes locked on him, eager for comfort in leadership. "Whatever they're doing, we'll be fine. We'll get out of this." Eyeless frowned for a moment. "I'm gonna try and chew through these." He gestured to the chains with his chin. "Dunno how possible that is, but if you guys have any chance to run—take it, no matter what. Go get help. Jack's still out there. He's probably coming for us—so there's nothing to worry about. We just need to keep our heads on. Clear?"

"Crystal," Jeff said, nodding. When all affirmatives were received, Eyeless craned his neck to try and gnaw through his chains. He gave up some five minutes later, licking blood from his dagger teeth.

"Not happening," he sighed. "I think one of my teeth is loose." He wiggled it with his tongue. "Yep."

"It's okay," BEN said, although his shoulders sagged. "You tried."

"Yeah," Toby agreed. "I'm just worried about you."

Eyeless shook his head. "Don't be. I've been through worse."

Hoodie grimaced. "Some comfort that is."

"Yeah." Eyeless let his head fall back against the concrete with a hollow, hopeless _thunk_. Breakfast was brought by a man and woman in t-shirts and jeans, who dealt out plates as quickly as they could and then hightailed it back out of the room. Cowards.

"You know the problem with this?" Toby demanded, glowering at the plates of-well, something. Maybe edible. Probably not.

"Just the little fact we don't have arms to eat it with," BEN said.

"Precisely," Toby muttered. "I'm not eating it. I'm not a dog." He kicked it towards the center of the room, and the rest of them followed suit, the metal plates grating against the concrete.

The next however many hours were spent in damned waiting. Eyeless stared at the ceiling and shivered—the rest of them watched in a painful kind of anger and pity, thinking desperately to no avail and trying to cheer each other with hopeful words of escape and revenge. When they came for him, Eyeless went with dignity—the rest of them did not. They yelled and threw themselves against their chains and cursed themselves blue until the door shut. Then, when he was gone, they sagged against the wall and imagined all kinds of horrible things.

Eyeless didn't come back.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty: **In Which There Are Procedures and Pain

They came back at what Jeff estimated was a little before noon. Burns clucked at them for not eating their breakfast and then informed Jeff that he would be next for the procedure. He fought them—of course he did. He wouldn't be Jeff if he didn't. He kicked when he could and headbutted when he found an opening, and he cussed and he even bit one of them—and he was a pretty adept biter, after living (and fighting) with Eyeless for four years. Despite that, he was small, weaponless, and in a straitjacket. They dragged him from the room within minutes. The click of the door that cut him off from his family was like a death knoll and it washed fear down his back. He balked, refused to move his legs, so they pulled him along. They pulled him down hallways lined with doors, went through one of the doors, and then through a silvery set of double-doors.

Inside the silver doors there was what appeared to be a hospital room, except for the things it contained. Or just one of the things. The walls were white and there was a computer sitting in the corner, on top of a desk next to a spinny office chair. It wasn't those that horrified Jeff, but the low table in the middle of the room. He'd never seen anything like it. It was maybe two feet off of the ground and had three metal bands Jeff could picture head and hands pinned to the wood with. A second piece of wood came off of the bottom of it, with two more clamps. The wood looked reddish around the bands. Shaking worked its way from Jeff's shoulders to his knees, his breath coming faster, bobbing his chest along with it. Burns stroked his arm and he flinched. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured. "I know it looks scary. It won't hurt long. Tie him down."

The men wrestled him forward, until he knelt in front of the table, on the second slab of wood. They clamped his wrists and feet down and head down. _We're scared. _Jeff thought. Even his thoughts were shivering. _They're_ _going to torture us, we know they are. They'll hurt and they'll hurt and we'll hurt and we'll hu_—Burns unstrapped his straitjacket, and then started to cut off a white t-shirt Jeff didn't recognize. His mind made a quick jump and he hauled back against the restraints because _no, no, no, not that, not that, please, please pleasepleasepleasenotthattheycan't._

"Shh, shh, baby," Burns murmured, stroking his hair. It made him sick.

"Fucking bitch," he said, although his voice quavered. "Whore."

She paused and he could feel her confusion. She broadcast everything she thought loudly, through each motion she made. "Oh, no, no, baby," she said, patting his head again. "We're not doing that, no, no, don't worry. We're just taking your mark off."

_ Mark? What? _Something cold and wet touch the base of his spine and Jeff stiffened, too fearful to feel even the slightest pleasure a touch to his back usually brought. _They mean Slender's mark? You can't take that off, or we wouldn't still have it. It's permanent. _"You can't."

"We're confident we can, don't worry," Burns said. "It just takes a few tries. You'll be all better soon." He voice turned into a coo, but Jeff swore he heard malevolence behind it. He tried to squirm away from the liquid they rubbed against his back.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Cleaning this off. Just a little water," Burns said. "No alcohol. Your friend told us you hated it. He's a sweet man, isn't he?"

"What the fuck'd you do to him?"

"He's just fine, baby, just like you'll be. Now relax. When you feel something in your head, you need to fight it. Understand?"

Jeff kept his mouth clamped shut. They started cutting him. That part wasn't that bad—worse than when he had carved up his face, because his back was more sensitive than that and this wasn't voluntary. It only took about five minutes, and then they stopped and he heard the gentle cling of metal on metal and then smelled something hot—_that _terrified him. He yanked up against the restraints. Burns came to kneel in front of him and he saw her mouth working, but his ears were ringing too loudly for him to understand. They started burning him. He started screaming. It was a pulsing agony that drove through his spine and slid across the entirety of his skin, signaling his brain to struggle, fight, scream because maybe there was some sympathy in the room. His brain was a fool to hope, because they kept going. It felt like hours and hours of the excruciation (how much of it was real and how much of it was memory? Did it matter?)—and then it only got worse.

His mind started to burn. He remember the parasite there—that strong, loving thing that kept him close and snug and safe. He shrieked for it. S_lenderslenderslenderslenderslenderplease Slender make them stop._

And in his mind the parasite answered back, _Hush, hush, child, it will be well, we will be fine. Child, breathe._

_It hurts ithurtithurtsithurtsSlender._

_I know, I know, I'm sorry, child, so sorry._

_ Helpme why don't youhelpme?_

_ Shh, Jeffrey. You'll be fine._

_It_hurts _they're _hurting _us Slender._

_I will kill them for you, child, as soon as I can. Just breathe. Breathe. Good, very good. You're so brave, child, so strong. Think about me, tell me where you are._

_ I dunnoIdunno it hurts I didn't see itwasdarkandit_hurts.

_Where is Laughing Jack?_

_I dunno SlenderI_dunno _please I'm sorry make them stop. Thisishow weare beautiful the fire. Rememberrememberremember it? Burningburningburning we're burning always burning they're just like us, Slender, they're no different we're burning._

_ Child, you'll be fine. Eyeless was fine, he was brave, too. Tell me what happened._

_Kidnappedus smelled choloform trapped here think we're _crazy _we'renotwe'renotwe'renot—_

_Quiet, now, I know you're not. Eyeless said you were in Texas, near the ocean. Is that right?_

_Yesyesyes we were—Slender they're _burning _us make them stop. _The voice in his head didn't respond and Jeff panicked further—if that were possible. It was. He threw himself against the restraints, heaving his weight back against his wrists and snarling savagely. Burns touched his face and he tried to turn his head enough to bite her, but the band clamped his forehead to the wood and left him helpless. Her caress, and her gentle, pitying face made him sick. Or maybe that was the smell of frying flesh—the smell of years gone by and pain and crushing grief and horror and anger and _beautiful._

_Calm down. _Now, _child, you'll hurt yourself, _the voice said.

_They're hurting._

_I know, son. I'm so terribly sorry. They'll be done soon. It only takes three minutes_.

The stopped burning him, as promised—but the pain didn't go away. _It still hurts. Are you going to goawayagain? Slender it hurts._ Something else touched his back and Jeff ground his forehead against the table _Nomorenomore please. Slender? _His head was quiet. Empty. Alone. _Slender? Slender_ please. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't go—don't leave us, Slender. _There was no answer. His chest hitched and he angrily gulped down the threat of sobs. _He didn't leave,_ Jeff thought viciously. _He was never there. He probably_ wanted _this to happen. He sent us to them. Just a figment of imagination—something we thought would help. See how _fucking _well that worked. Oh, it hurtsithurtsithurts._

"There, baby," Burns said, patting his face. He jerked away from her, as much as was possible. "We'll just put a bandage on and get you set up in your room. Now, you be careful and don't scratch at it. We don't want it getting infected." She moved out of his vision and his heart leaped into his throat—the thing she pressed to his back hurt, but it didn't burn. A few minutes later one of the men released him from the restraints and he scrambled to his feet, despite the screaming protests his lower back offered. He stumbled into a corner and glared, although his legs kept trying to buckle under him. Burns approached him with one hand stretched out, her lips pursed in concern. "Let me see your wrists, honey," she said. "We'll wash those off, get you a new shirt, and we'll be done."

Jeff thought about refusing—but he really, really wanted to get gone and he knew (he wasn't an idiot) he wouldn't be able to fight against the three of them. He stuck one of his arms out and flinched when Burns gripped it, carefully wiping a cloth over the blood that clung to the raw patches on his wrist. When she finished the first arm, she reached for Jeff's other—he slammed it back into the wall, smashing his funny bone. He cringed, his nostrils flaring with quiet, painful breaths, and rubbed his elbow before offering it to Burns. The cleaning process was repeated, and then she smiled and gave him a new white t-shirt. "Now, we're leaving your straitjacket off so it doesn't bother your back. Please be careful with yourself, or we'll have to put it back on," Burns said, before ushering him back out into the hallway, past the silvery doors and to a locked door. One of the men handed Burns the key and she pushed the door open.

Inside sprawled a wide room, with concrete walls but a carpet floor. There were a number of beds lining the walls, and cabinets above them—but none of that mattered at all, because sitting beside one of the beds was a gray-skinned, eyeless man in a white t-shirt. Jeff was at his side in three seconds, flat, if not less. Eyeless clutched him tightly and knocked their heads together. Jeff glared at Burns and the men and with a final warning ("behave, darlings, or...") they dismissed themselves and shut the door. "Sorry, Jeffy," Eyeless murmured.

"It's okay," Jeff said.

"Did they burn your mark?"

"Yeah, fuckers. Yours?"

"Yeah, fuckers. Did you—uh, did you hear something?" Eyeless asked.

"I pretended I did."

"Slenderman?"

Jeff pulled away some so he look at Eyeless's face. "Yeah. Did you—"

"Yeah." They were quiet for a moment, before Eyeless said, "We'll ask the others, too."

"The others—shit. We can't let them do that to them." They looked towards the door. "There are only three of them," Jeff said quietly.

"Brother, you have a point."

"Should we wait for someone else?" Jeff asked. "Three on three."

"You know, I think we can take them."

"You know, I think we can too. They serving lunch soon?"

"I'd say so," Eyeless said.

Jeff grinned. "Hungry?"

"Starving."


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One: **In Which There Are Guns and Blood

After their initial burst of eagerness, they set their energy towards a plan. It would be safe to assume that the two men and Burns weren't the only people in—well, wherever this was. It was also relatively safe to assume that Burns and the two men would be the ones to deliver lunch. But, even if that wasn't the case, Jeff and Eyeless still agreed that they had to try and fight. Since they hadn't been killed yet—on the contrary, Burns, at least, seemed to encourage their survival—they hoped that at the worst, they would thrown back into the room. Hoped. Maybe they would die—but responsibility was responsibility. Jeff thought he might kind of understand, a little bit, what Liu was thinking when he took the fall for Jeff—because, really, they were both big brothers now. And that was what big brothers did.

The plan Eyeless and Jeff came up with was quickly formed before it was shoved into action—maybe that was why it didn't work. They agreed to attack Burns and the men—or whoever showed up—as soon as the door opened. They would take the guards' weapons and go back through the silver doors and to the concrete room. They would shoot the lock or pick the lock or grab keys on the way or whatever to open the door. They'd release their friends and then—well, then the plan got a little vague. It was basically just _get the hell out. _And that was as far as they got before the door opened.

Jeff let Eyeless have the men, since he was, you know, equipped with natural daggers in his mouth—and Eyeless did not disappoint. He lunged for the larger man first, slamming them both into the wall outside the room before any of them so much as stiffened. In a quick, professional move, Eyeless tore the man's throat with his teeth. Blood sprayed both sides of the hallway and all their pristine white shirts and coats. Burns screamed and fumbled at her waist—Jeff sprang for her, sorely missing his knife. But he could deal. She was small and he was furious.

He pinned her to the wall with his forearm pressed to her throat. She clawed at his hand and he was reminded of the horrors of suffocating—a fact brought to his attention by Toby. _Who she wants to burn, _he thought, and pressed harder on her throat, felt it start to buckle. "How's that, Burnsy? Don't worry, baby, it won't hurt for long," he sneered, watching her mouth gape for air and her eyes widen in pain. And then, in a sudden realization, he noticed she was only clawing with one hand—leaving bright red marks on his skin—but the other hand—Jeff glanced down and at the same moment he did, Burns brought her handgun up.

Jeff leaned back and grabbed for the gun. At the same time, Burns wheezed in a breath and whipped the gun up. She pulled the trigger. Jeff started laughing when nothing happened—fucking bitch had left the safety on. But his relief lasted only milliseconds, because as he jerked the gun from her hand and clicked the safety off, a loud crack split down the hallway. _What? _And then there were shouts from down the hallway, and a scream that had freezing fear drowning Jeff's elation at fight and freedom.

Whipping around, Jeff saw that the second man was sagging against the wall, clutching his throat. More deserving of his attention and terror was the only good man, standing and wavering in the middle of the hall, dark hands clamped over his stomach. Baring his teeth in fury, Jeff spun and pulled the trigger—it was cold comfort to see Burns's brain splattering all over the wall behind her, in a fine soupy mixture of meat and blood and crunchy bone. Jeff shot the second, gurgling man, too, just because he fucking earned it. Then he helped Eyeless ease himself to the ground, stiff with worry.

"Fuck," Jeff muttered, coaxing Eyeless's hands away from his stomach when he was settled against the wall. "Lemme see. Come on."

"People coming," Eyeless said, his breath coming in rigid gasps. "Gimme a gun."

Jeff scrambled for the nearest man's gun and shoved it into Eyeless's hands. Eyeless checked the safety and cocked it. "I'll take this side," Jeff said. "You take that one." They pressed their sides together, steadied their breathing, and as a single creature they aimed and they killed anything that turned down the hall or came through the silver doors. The people seemed to catch on quickly (there would be no talking down, not from this, not with them) and within five minutes they began firing back. Jeff hauled Eyeless into the room and slammed the door shut. "What do we do?" he asked.

"Hell if I know," Eyeless said. "You see an opening you take it."

"I can't—"

"You _will._"

Grunting, Jeff stuck his arm outside the door and shot a man. When he pulled back in, he said, "You really aren't in any shape to enforce that order."

Eyeless groaned and Jeff flinched. "Don't do this now, please. Come on. Have I ever led you wrong before?"

"Several times, I'm sure."

"Out of respect for me, please—"

"It's not about respect, it's about strength—of which you currently have very little," Jeff said.

"So after everything I've ever fucking done, you're just going to ignore me because I'm shot?"

"When you put it that way it sounds terrible," Jeff grumbled, cracking the door open and peering anxiously down the hall, which had fallen empty and silent. He didn't like it. "I'm just not doing what you say because you'll die if I do."

"So what does that matter?" Eyeless demanded, his voice rising.

Jeff glared at him. "It matters a lot."

"Why? I'm weak now, remember?"

"Doesn't matter. You're still my family."

"So _listen _to me. Please, Jeff. At least let me die thinking I had some kind of respect in your eyes."

Jeff rubbed his forehead and huffed. "Of course you do—but that's not what this is about."

"Are you that eager to be boss, that you'll let us all die?"

"That's not what I'm doing, shut up," Jeff snapped. "Lay back down."

"No. Jeff, I'm leader because you and the others respect me. You trust me. Because I've proven myself. Don't you remember—that time with Masky? Or when the cops came at Christmas? Or—"

"Eye, come on," Jeff said, scowling. "That won't work."

Eyeless pushed himself off of the bed and bore his bloody teeth. "Fine. Fine, let's fight. Now. We'll do it your fucking way, Jeff."

"No, we will _not__._ Sit your ass back down."

"Make me," Eyeless growled. "Come on. A fight. I'll still kick your ass."

Jeff flicked his eyes upwards and ground his teeth. "I'm not fighting with a shot man."

"You are right now."

"You know what I mean."

"You sure bided your time well, kid," Eyeless said. "Waited for just the right minute. You want to be boss so bad, let's go."

"I don't want to be boss," Jeff hissed.

"Yeah? Prove it. Listen to me."

Jeff looked back at Eyeless, where he stood unsteadily by the bed. His jaw jutted forward, and both blood and black slime dotted the collar of his t-shirt. His eyebrows were lowered in a stubborn glare, and his bloody fists clenched at his sides, ignoring the hole in his stomach. His hair, messy brown, scattered haplessly across his wrinkled brow. Beautiful. Jeff took a shaky breath and shook his head. Stubborn, smart, loyal, proud-beautiful. How could he ignore that? The blood that clung to Eyeless was for him, for all of them. The price to pay. And what was Jeff's price? This gnawing, shredding black thing that grew beneath his ribs with his decision.

"Eye," he said, his voice cracking. "I think you're the best man I know—and you're a serial killer." He laughed hopelessly. "It's a sad world, isn't it." Checking the hallway one last time, Jeff made his way to Eyeless's side and nudged him back towards the bed. Eyeless balked and refused to budge. "It's okay," Jeff sighed. "You win. Lay down now."

"I win," Eyeless repeated. "You'll do what I say."

Jeff pressed his forehead against Eyeless's shoulder and nodded miserably. "Always. You know that."

Eyeless sagged back onto the bed and folded his arms across his stomach. "Go now. The hall's clear. Try for the others, but the most important thing is to get out and get help. Find—Jack, or somebody. Jack would be really helpful. He can kill everybody here."

"Okay," Jeff murmured. He hovered reluctantly on the edge of the bed, huddled against Eyeless's crooked knee.

Eyeless's sticky, gray and red hand touched his cheek. "I'll be fine." Jeff mutely shook his head. "I will. They won't kill me."

Jeff looked up at him. "You hope."

"I know," Eyeless corrected.

"Don't lie."

Eyeless paused, smiled grimly, and said, "I hope."

Jeff crushed him into a hug, pressing Eyeless's boney body against his. He felt Eyeless's nose bury itself into his hair and inhale. That act was followed by a short, dry sob before Eyeless pushed him gently towards the door. "Love you, Jeffy."

"Love you back," Jeff said, swallowing around the stubborn lump in his throat.

"I know," Eyeless said.

Jeff rested a hand on the doorknob. "How do you know? Can you smell them? Emotions?"

Eyeless leaned back against the wall and shook his head minutely. "I can't—I can't smell anything but blood."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-two: **In Which Jeff Abandons the Compound

Jeff thought—no, he knew—that leaving Eyeless was the hardest thing he had had to do since he had become a proxy. Since he was born. But he did—because Eyeless was his leader and his big brother and it was Jeff's responsibility to listen, it was his sacrifice to accept Eyeless's. But he knew he wouldn't be able to do it if he thought about it, so he shut off all of that and focused solely on his job—get out, get help. That was his entire world now.

He took both guns and he went through the silver doors. He got into the burning room without hindrance—and he found that the burning room was empty. He was more cautious going forward, because why wouldn't they try and stop him? Why just abandon their posts? Upon entering the hallway that housed his family, he found where all the rats had scurried. They lined that hall, blocked that all-important door, and when they saw him they shot. So he quit that and went back through the silver doors. They let him. He didn't like it.

Passing the door again, he almost thought about Eyeless and abandoned his mad mission—almost, not quite. Jeff wound his way through several eerie, empty halls before he came to a large metal door, in front of which was a group of eight men. Well, that was problematic—but he was fucking Jeff the Killer. He'd been avoiding cops since he was an eighth grader, and these guys were far less professional than cops. Jeff observed them for some time before deciding that all they were doing was standing and waiting for him—and they never noticed him, despite the fact that the only thing blocking him from their sight was the angle of the hallway wall and the shadows. They each had a gun—three of them rifles, one a shotgun, and the others handguns. Damn, but he missed his knife. Guns just weren't his thing. They were noisy and unreliable. Cocking the handgun he'd taken alerted all eight of them to his presence and sent them scrambling to draw their weapons. He hit the guy with the shotgun first—a near miss. It only got the guy in the arm, but that was enough to make him drop his gun. And luck of all fucking luck, the shotgun fired when it struck the ground and caught one of the men with the handguns. Jeff grinned and pulled the trigger on his second gun—a larger handgun. A Glock. He hit one of the handgun men in the stomach and dropped him.

The men all clumped together and moved as a unit—which, maybe, would have worked to their advantage if this was hand-to-hand combat. With guns, they presented a fine, fat target. Idiots. Jeff hit two more before he felt a sting at his side and jumped backwards. He cocked his guns and pulled their triggers as quickly as he could, but there were still five functioning men that surrounded him. It seemed ridiculous to Jeff that, once they held him at gunpoint, one of them said, "Drop your weapons." Like, would they let him live? The real world was weird. Jeff would kill everyone in the building for Eye—but these men, even after he had shot four of them, would offer him an out. Fucked. Instead, Jeff shot the guy in the heart. The remaining four shot him.

But he was Jeff the Killer. He was, if you will, a highly skilled and trained assassin. Even so, when all the men's corpses littered the concrete floor, Jeff hurt. It annoyed him to no end when he heard more shouts from down the hallway. He rifled through the lead man's pockets—the one who had spoken—and found a ring of keys. He filtered through them as quickly as he could, jabbing them into the lock until he found one that turned, relief leaping in him when he swung the door open. A narrow flight of stairs was offered to him and took them two at a time, until he reached another door. This door was made of flimsy wood and angled up into the ceiling. Jeff, fueled by the panic of a hunted animal, threw himself against it until it splintered and then he clawed his way up.

Sunlight hit him square in the face and he winced, ducking his head and kicking shards of wood away from his bare feet. Staggering upright, he spared a quick glance around himself. To his right there was an abandoned barn. In every other direction there were tall, yellow grass fields. Jeff took the road less obvious and bolted into the field, away from the cellar door. When he heard the shouts grow louder, he dropped and waited with baited breath, his heart thundering like a spooked stallion. He could hear them, yelling and walking, some twenty yards away. But they never advanced, and after a while, the sound faded. Jeff held his position, watching the stalks of the grass and the odd little bugs that traveled around and up them. The breeze was cool and wild and _free__,_ and it brought him no small amount of comfort. It smelled like autumn—smoke and rough leaves—and blood. He hoped they didn't have dogs, or they'd surely scent him out.

Cautiously, Jeff rolled onto his back and pushed himself up. The grass waved a good two inches above his head. Rolling up his pant leg, Jeff admired the worst of his new wounds. Entry, no exit, into his ankle. He swore he could feel the bullet lodged in bone when he tried to roll his ankle. The act sent a fission of pain darting up to his side and he stilled, tugging his pants back over it. Hiking up his shirt, the next wound he saw was minor. The bullet had just caught him, leaving a thin streak of red under his arm. Above that, another bullet had gone through the top of his shoulder, leaving a hole through the muscle. Luckily, none of these seemed fatal and so fell under Jeff's "unimportant" category.

When dark fell, Jeff pushed himself up and slunk away from the cellar, casting wary glances back over his shoulder. He went a good two miles before he started feeling more comfortable—and that was only until he saw the white line. It was right under his nose and he froze just before he stepped across it, kneeling to look closer. It looked like it was made of salt or sugar, except there were odd silver pieces scattered throughout it. Looking both directions, the line faded into the grass and looked unbroken. Jeff wandered back and forth for some time, reluctant to act on something unknown. What if it marked an electric fence or something, and he'd been tagged so he'd stay in? Did he want to find out?

_What are you doing?_

Jeff sprang away from the line, turning to the side to see a large, strange shape silhouetted by the moon. His mind registered both the figure and the mental voice in a flash and recognized this as a monster—a potential threat, but not immediate. Proxies could get along with most monsters, if they introduced themselves by master—except that Jeff refused to do that, because Slenderman was no longer his master. He was disowned, one of the most dishonorable things for a proxy, and he wasn't going to flaunt that. Still, Jeff had been maneuvering around monsters for a long time, so he fell back on that set of skills. He made his thoughts loud and cautiously said, _Standing here. Who are you?_

_Known by many names, _the thing said. It looked vaguely like a bird, but much larger and uglier. _What is yours?_

_Known by many names, _Jeff answered. _Sometimes they call me bastard, sometimes motherfucker, sometimes just Jeff._

The monster shook its head and made a strange sound that had Jeff edging back. _I will call you Bastard, then. What is your purpose? You are not what they usually send. Are you to be eaten?_

_I really hope not, _Jeff thought. _I'll fight you about it._

_Understandable. Did you escape? Are you a monster-child?_

_ What's a monster-child? Proxies?_

_ I do not know how else to say it. Monster-child is most accurate, _Seed Eater said.

_Um, I guess. Kind of._

_ Who is your father? Or mother, I suppose?_

_Ah—hell, why does it matter? _Jeff asked.

_I wish to know, Bastard. And I can still eat you. But I will not eat you if you are a monster-child. I am not suicidal. Your parent?_

_He's not my parent, _Jeff thought bitterly. _But Slenderman marked me._

Seed Eater drew back as though Jeff had stabbed it. Yeah, he wished. _Slenderman?_

_Yeah, _Jeff said. _So you won't eat me._

_Most definitely I will not, _Seed Eater agreed. _Your father is very powerful, Bastard. Are you anything like him?_

Jeff grimaced, on the verge of saying that he really hoped not. But then he thought maybe that wasn't such a good idea. If he played his cards right (not lying, just not saying everything), he could use this creature. _I'm not sure what you mean. I don't have powers like his._

_No, no, in personality, in skill. Are you similar?_

_ I suppose, _Jeff said, shrugging. _I'm good at killing people and stuff. I used to have a lot of pull with him—I'm one of his originals. I dunno anymore. We've been gone for a while—they kidnapped us. _Not technically a lie. Just—misdirection.

_You have...sway? Would you like to bargain?_

_ State your terms._

_ I have...been on bad terms with your father. I would like to make things right. It has been nigh on a hundred years now...This would be a good chance for us to be friends again, I believe. I will help you to free the other monster-children from the feeders. In return, maybe you will give a good word of me to your father?_

Jeff rocked back on his good heel and hummed thoughtfully. Seed Eater cocked its head. _How can you help? Can you kill everyone in the building?_

_ I could try for you, Bastard._

_ That's not good enough. I need them all dead. Adjust our terms?_

_ Of course._

_ How do you know the kidnappers? _Jeff asked.

_They are my feeders, _Seed Eater said. _And my captors. They trapped me here, with the salt-silver line. But they feed me also—they give me the dying monster-children. But never do I eat them while alive, only while very dead, promise, promise, I would never kill monster-child. Promise. Believe me, Bastard?_

_I do,_ Jeff said. _What are the monster-children like?_

_I never know their parents, _Seed Eater said. _Just children. Just like you. All very good. Strong, young. Good children. Very sorry they're dead._

_That's alright, _Jeff said. _I didn't know them. Do you ever know what happens inside the place?_

_ Sometimes I can smell. Like when they are burning or bleeding or other strong things._

_ Good. So you can know when there is danger?_

_ Yes._

_Here is what I want. My family, other monster-children, Slenderman's children, are in there. If you smell blood I want you to stop the feeders. Easy, right?_

_I cannot cross the line._

_ Well I'm not freeing you. Make a helluva lotta noise or whatever. I'm just asking you to try. I don't think they'll kill them—why were the other children dying?_

_The burning, _Seed Eater said. _They burn many, many times trying to get rid of monsters—never works. Kills children, not monster._

_ How much burning does it take?_

_ Much burning. Much, much burning. Months._

Jeff nodded. _I won't be gone months._

_ You go?_

_ I have a friend I need to get. He can kill everyone in there, with no risk to any of ours. Forgive me for not trusting you._

_Understandable_, Seed Eater said, bobbing its head. _You'll be back soon?_

_ Depends on how long it takes to find him, _Jeff said. _I don't know where I am._

_ The State of the United States of America known as Nebraska._

_Nebraska? _Jeff thought, his shoulders slumping. _That far north? I was in Texas. Shit, it's gonna take forever to get back._

Yes, Seed Eater agreed. _I have an idea._

_Is it dangerous?_

_ Possibly. But you are Slenderman-child._


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Hope you guys all had a Merry Christmas! This is probably the last post of 2014. Wow. Where'd the time go? See you guys in 2015! Thanks for reading!**

**Chapter Twenty-three: **In Which There is Desperation

Jeff looked curiously at Seed Eater, narrowing his eyes. _What's the idea?_

_When the feeders, they bring you here, they bring lots of things. Food and blankets and things. Probably also bring callers._

_ Callers? What, you mean like phones?_

_ Callers is the most accurate term for them._

_ Small, kind of square? People talk on them?_

_Yes, callers_. Seed Eater eased itself into a sitting position. Jeff did the same thing, because his ankle was killing him.

_So can we get the callers?_

_ Yes. That is my idea. I will tell you where they keep the callers and how to get there. Then you will be giving Slenderman good word for me?_

_ If anything you do helps me get the other monster-children out you'll get your good word, _Jeff promised. _And I'm not a liar._

_Thank you, _Seed Eater said, and it made a purring sound. _The callers are kept in the abandoned barn, far from children. Easy to find, if you get past the dog. There is special way to get past—but that I cannot tell you. I do not know. I have never been there, but the feeders go back and forth often, so it cannot be hard to do. You go there and the callers will be there somewhere. You can call your friend._

_Yeah. I think he took his phone with him. Hey, you're not stupid. _Jeff grinned at it. It chittered back at him.

_You are hurt_, it said. _I will give you a ride back to the barn, if you want._

So Jeff clambered onto the back of the large creature, gripping its feathers. It carried him easily, dropping itself to walk on four legs. It took about fifteen minutes on Seed Eater's back to cover what distance it had taken Jeff close to an hour to cover, and the gentle rocking lulled Jeff out of his worry, until he saw the barn. He sat straight on the creature's back, nearly knocking himself off. Seed Eater sidestepped to compensate and its body vibrated with a low sound. _Sorry, _Jeff said.

_Here is as far as I can go, Bastard, _Seed Eater said, sitting before another white line Jeff hadn't noticed bolting into the field.

Jeff lowered himself from its back, easing his weight onto his hurt ankle. _Thanks, _he said.

_You are welcome. Luck be with you._

Jeff hopped over the line, glanced at the cellar door—which appeared to have been covered by a tarp—and trotted towards the old barn. He paused at the doors, caught between the open land behind and the unknown threat in front—both terrifying. He finally nudged the door open and stepped into the barn. Faded moonlight flickered through the windows above the hayloft—and landed on a pile of things, some of which Jeff recognized, with elation, belonged to him and his family.

Despite his excitement, Jeff took each step slowly and carefully, once again grateful he didn't add to his risk by blinking. He didn't see any dog. Not on the floor, not up in the hayloft, not near the mound of things. It was freaking him out. When he reached the pile, he gingerly stuck his hand in and pulled it apart. When he reached a box that had _Slenderman Proxy __Phones _scrawled across the top of it, his heart swelled with relief. This whole fucking nightmare could be over soon. Jeff pulled the lid off of the box and grabbed his phone—a sleek little thing with a red case—and nuzzled it against his cheek. He set the box to the side—the others would be wanting their phones back, because they _were _getting out, soon—and turned his phone on. He scrolled to find Laughing Jack in his contacts and jabbed the glowing letters of his name. With growing anxiety, Jeff pressed the phone to his ear and listened to it ring. It rang. It rang. It rang. It rang. It rang.

It stopped ringing.

Jeff grabbed his hair and bore his teeth hopelessly at the barn floor. Fuck. Why the hell would Jack pick up? He probably didn't even take his phone with him when he went to get the soap. Why would he? It was probably lost somewhere at the warehouse. Or maybe it was even in the box, on silent. Jeff rummaged miserably through the phones, but Jack's didn't pop up. Jeff let his head fall back against the pile of things and exhaled shakily. Shit just kept happening.

And then he saw the dog. Large, entirely black—featureless. It didn't even have eyes. _Eyeless. Fuck, Eyeless, Eyeless, Eyeless. _A low keen rose in Jeff's throat. The dog moaned with him, although it had no mouth. _We killed him, we killed him—no _we _didn't,_ you _did—I did. I killed him. I killed my brother. _His chest hitched erratically and the dog stepped closer. _Just like last time._ _But I didn't. I can't_ ever _do what I mean to—no wonder Slender hates me. I'm a fucking failure. I got his Eyeless killed, and the others—the others too, they're all dead, all because of me. Because I can't do anything _right.

The dog was almost touching him, crying with him, because they were in pain, both of them, agony. _I always argue and fight and I'm always just acting and _lying _I'm a_ liar _fuck fuck fuck_—the dog presses against him—Jack _would be a better leader. I can't even fucking call a person right. We're all gonna die because of me. Like Eyeless. How fucking scared he must have been because I left him, I left him, Eyeless, Eyeless—the best man in the world and I left him to die. And the others. Masky, Masky, he's so sweet and he just—he just—all because of me. Hoodie would be right if he hated our guts. He loves Masky—like no one loves me. And no wonder. Look at me now, my self-pity, my cowardice, my lying and my_ weakness _I don't deserve it, don't deserve anything, not anyone, this is what happens whenever I have anyone they all_ die _because I'm a fucking_ failure.

The phone rang.


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Happy New Year, guys! Hope it's a great one. The dog is from the Creepypasta story The Faceless Dog, if anybody was wondering. **

**Chapter Twenty-four:** In Which Jeff Finds Momentary Courage

The dog fell quiet at the sound of "Pop Goes the Weasel," but it kept its solid, dark form against Jeff's trembling body. Slowly, trying to settle his breathing, Jeff reached for the phone and dragged it towards them. The name glowing across the top was Laughing Jack's. Warily, Jeff brought the phone to his ear and pressed talk. "Jack?" he asked, his voice wavering on the border of fearful.

"Jeff?" The voice was familiar. A wave of relief crashed over Jeff and he exhaled, resting his head back against the pile of stuff. "What the hell? Where are you? Where've you been?"

"Nowhere good," Jeff said, laughing breathily. The dog twitched. "Damn. You have no idea how happy I am to hear you. Why didn't you pick up?"

"I didn't know if it was really you," Jack said. "But then I thought about how it might've been-what the hell happened? Are you alright? "

"I'll be fine, as soon as we get the others," Jeff said, rubbing at his eyes. The process stung them and made the dog sidestep, its heavy paws silent on the floor.

"What happened to the others? Dammit, Jeffy. Tell me where you guys are and I'll be there."

The dog shuffled closer to Jeff again, pressing its great head against his neck. It reminded him of Slenderman. Cold and shadowy. Slenderman who abandoned them, who abandoned him-not without cause. Why should Jack be any different? "Why?" Jeff asked. Why would he come? Why did he care? He hadn't even known them for half a year. Maybe he would come for Eyeless, or for BEN or any of the others. Not Jeff. But that was okay. As long as the others got out.

"Because-um, you're family," Jack said. "Right? I mean, that's what Eyeless said. We're all a big family, and we have to take care of each other. Uh, I mean, I know I've only know you guys for, like, three months-but I mean, a woman thinks her child is family right away when she knows she's pregnant-crap, that was a bad metaphor. I mean sometimes. I mean like not if she doesn't want it. But like I do. I want the baby. Not that you guys are-you know what? I'm going to stop now. I'm just going to say that I consider you guys family. Maybe you don't feel the same way, I get that, not everybody rushes into things. So, um, let me prove I'm family. Where are you?"

Jeff kicked the dog. It didn't have a mouth, so he wasn't really worried about it biting him. He watched it, satisfied, as it stumbled towards the center of the barn. "Nebraska."

"Where at in Nebraska?"

"Dunno. Where are you?"

"Michigan," Jack said. "I was looking for you. Guess I went too far north. I have the van."

"Awesome," Jeff said, pushing himself to his feet. "Hold on a minute." He clamped his phone between his cheek and his shoulder to rummage through the pile of things, pulling out a white hoodie. It was his smaller one, so he set it aside and reached back in for the one that actually fit him. When he found that, he pulled BEN's phone out of the box and brought up GPS. "Okay," he said to Jack. "What town are you in? Are you in a town?"

"Uh, yeah. Cornery, Michigan, I think," Jack said.

Jeff, after looking to see where in the hell he himself was-the middle of Freaking Nowhere, north Nebraska-he typed that into the GPS. "Okay," he said. "We're only about three hours apart. Wanna meet at Caskon, and I'll show you the way back here? It's in the middle of Nowhere, but it's about an hour from Caskon."

"Are you safe there?" Jack asked.

"Debatable," Jeff said, holding the phone in his teeth to pull his hoodie over his head. _Knifey, knifey, where are you, baby? _He dug earnestly through the pile of clothes and boxes. Why did they have to be so unorganized here? "But I'll be fine. I'm gonna go ahead and go north. I met this weird creature-thing. I'll travel with it."

"Long story?"

"Little bit. Call me when you get to Caskon? I'll meet you somewhere outside it. I look less presentable than usual, and I don't know if they'll except the Halloween-party thing."

"Yeah, it's a little late in the year for that," Jack said. "Wait, why do you look less presentable? Are you hurt?"

"Not badly," Jeff said. Over the phone, he heard a car door slam and an engine rev. Frustrated with the disappearance of his knife, Jeff tossed BEN's phone back into the box and then headed back towards the barn doors. The dog had vanished. He cast a last look around the barn, up at the loft and the pile of clothes and things, but he saw nothing but shadows and moonlight.

"If you're hurt, just send me directions from the GPS and I'll come," Jack said.

"Nah," Jeff said. "I don't wanna stick around here too long. It's pretty close to the burning place."

"Burning place? Shit, Jeff, I leave for a couple hours-"

"Hey, I gotta go. Talk to you in a few hours?"

Jack sighed over the phone. "Yep, it's a date. Don't get kidnapped again."

"A-fucking-gain. I'll try not to. Caoi." Jeff hit the end button and slid his phone into his pocket before glancing across the bare ground the separated the grass field and the barn. When it checked out clear, he bolted (or as near that as he could get on his ankle) into the field and trotted to Seed Eater's formidable side. _Bastard, _it greeted. _Did you find the callers?_

_Yeah, _Jeff said. _Jack-my friend-he said he'd meet us in Caskon. That's north. Think I could hitch a ride there?_

_Ah, _Seed Eater said, straightening a few of its feathers with its long fingers. _I would, but my meals come close to morning. If I go with you I will not make it back in time._

_Oh, _Jeff said. He chewed on his bottom lip. _Alright. Will you meet me back here, though? Help Jack and me fight the feeders if we need you to?_

_Of course, _Seed Eater said. _Travel well._

_Yeah. You too. Have fun...eating seeds or whatever._

Seed Eater made its strange sound-laughter?-again, and stretched one of its large hands towards his head. Jeff scrunched up his nose but allowed it to stroke his hair back. Creepy motherfucker. When it dropped back onto all fours, Jeff looked over at the north star and started limping.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-five**: In Which Jeff Bitches and Jack Drives

After approximately two miserable hours, Jeff was dog-tired, his ankle was numb, his stomach growled irritably, and his mood had taken a sharp turn for the worse. Jack's ringtone made him want to butcher someone. He jabbed the talk button with more force than necessary and growled, "Hi."

"Hello, Mr. Grumpy Pants. I'm in Caskon. Are you almost here?"

"I'm in the middle of fucking nowhere, how am I supposed to know?"

"So I guess the nice Jeffy from earlier is gone?"

"There is no such thing as nice Jeffy," Jeff snapped. "And quit calling me that. My name is _Jeff._"

"Okay, _Jeff. _Tell me how to find you."

"I don't know where I am, dammit."

"Look at the GPS."

Jeff glared at his shoes. About half an hour ago he'd reached the edge of the grass field and stepped across the salty border of Seed Eater's territory. Once out of the field, the grass had been mown to a more manageable level and he'd crossed a single backroad. He'd expected to find Caskon quickly and easily-but, as it was turning out, nothing could ever be that simple. "I left the GPS," he grumbled at the grass.

The phone was silent for a moment. "Could you describe your surroundings?"

"Hm. Ho-hum, ho-hum. Um, there's grass, and grass, and more fucking grass. We're in _Nebraska._"

"Have you crossed any roads?"

"Yes," Jeff said poisonously, grinding his teeth. "I suppose you want me to go back."

"Would be beneficial."

"Don't use smartass words with me, Laughingstock, I am not in the mood," Jeff hissed.

"All I said was-"

"I know what you said, I'm not stupid."

There was a put-upon sigh from the phone. "No, Jeff. Of course not."

"What are you insinuating?"

"That you're in a helluva bad mood."

"I'm _starving _to death, I'm fucking tired, my ankle's killing me, and everyone is _dying."_ Jeff stomped his foot-the bad one-snarled and sat in the grass, wrapping his free arm around his knees and trying hard to stuff the Eyeless-memory back into its little box.

"Aw, Jeffy," Jack sighed. "I know. Just find the road, okay?"

Jeff flopped onto his back, stared at the sky, and took a few settling breaths. After a moment, he said, "Alright. I'll text you the name and you'll meet me on it?"

"You betcha," Jack said.

"'kay," Jeff muttered, heaving his weight back onto his feet. "Talk to you later."

"Yeah. Be safe," Jack said. Jeff snorted and hit the end button before turning back the way he'd come, putting his head against the hard November wind, and walking.

It was some fifteen minutes later he found the road, and then he walked up it another ten before he found a road sign and texted Jack his location. Then he spent another thirty minutes waiting for Jack and wallowing in his misery. He was _attempting _to avoid thinking about Slenderman and Eyeless and everything else that was causing him hell, but he really had nothing else to do but stare at the stars. He did manage to focus on those for a while. They were hard and cold-clear, and he named the few constellations he saw and knew. Andromedea, Pisces, Aquarius.

Eyeless had never seen the constellations. And he never would. Jeff rolled onto his stomach and buried his face against his arms, inhaling the smell of his hoodie, of safety and warmth and good times. Why was Eyeless so attached to his own hoodie? Jeff adored both his hoodies, but not to the point that Eyeless loved his. Jeff had never even asked about it. He didn't even know where Eyeless came from. Fuckin' good friend he was.

He'd have to be better, try harder. Oh, wait. He couldn't, because Eyeless was _fucking dead. _Jeff sucked in a breath and grabbed his hair. _Maybe he's not, maybe he's not. No, don't do this. Don't lie to yourself. We're not a child. Eyeless is dead. No hope. Don't hope. But-no. Just keep it together a little longer. Just a little longer and then we can _snap _and we can kill those motherfuckers. _

He entertained himself with visions of their mutilated bodies. They didn't even have to smile. They didn't deserve to smile. They didn't deserve fucking faces. He'd take all their eyes, that's what he'd do. Then he'd roll their eyes around and feed them to Seed Eater. Could someone feel their eye if you pulled it out but it was still attached by a nerve? Now that would be a fine experiment. He'd have to try it. There'd be plenty of subjects. All his brothers would want to have fun, too. But there would still be enough for all of them, Jeff thought. They could help each other out. Who said they had to work alone? Slender wasn't fucking around anymore to fucking tell them what to fucking do. It was Slender's fault Eye was-Jeff tugged on his hair again. The sparks of pain distracted him from the black hollow forming behind his sternum.

Shortly after Jeff heard the growl of an engine, headlights (on bright, Jack the bloody bastard) flared over the grass. Jeff pushed himself onto his feet at the same time Jack pulled the van off the road. When he turned it off, the land around them was readily cast into darkness.

"It's about time," Jeff grumbled, heading towards the van. It was actually good to see the vehicle again, ugly and familiar.

Jack met him halfway and looked him up and down. "You look like hell."

"Gee, thanks," Jeff said, swerving around him and pulling the van's side door open. "Don't feel much better." He collapsed onto the bench seat and pressed his face against the fabric, breathing in. It smelled like Masky and Hoodie, faintly-cinnamon and warm clothes. It was also pleasantly warm inside the van. "Get in and turn the heater back on," Jeff said, when Jack stopped beside the van.

"Are you hurt?" Jack asked.

"Nothing serious," Jeff said. "I can still fight."

"Who's blood?"

"Nobody's who deserved it. Well, mostly. Eye-never fucking mind. Let's go. We've got people to kill, brothers to rescue."

Jack rested a hand on Jeff's back, just above his mark. Jeff let him. It was soothing to feel a touch that wasn't panicked or painful, even from the clown-but they still didn't have that kind of time, so after a second Jeff turned his head and glared. "They'll be fine," Jack said, stepping away and climbing into the driver's seat.

"Yeah," Jeff said. "Right."

They drove south, towards the burning place and Slender and Seed Eater and their family.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-six**: In Which There Is a Bag of Tricks and Argument

On the way to the burning place, Jeff told Jack what happened, starting from when Jack had left to go get the soap Eyeless requested up until the point of their meeting near Caskon. He skipped over the faceless dog and his minor breakdown, but other than that, the story was complete. By the end of it, Jack looked angry, and his anger matched his eyes. It was clear and cold and icy. It made Jeff feel better, having a partner in his fury. It made him like Jack just a little more.

When they reached the field, Jeff hopped back out of the van and stumbled. His ankle, having been given a satisfactory rest, had leaped back to life and screeched at him like a furious infant. "What happened to your ankle?" Jack asked, grabbing his bag from the backseat of the car.

"Doesn't matter, it's fine," Jeff said.

Jack frowned at him, then sighed and nodded. "Lead the way."

Jeff hopped across the salt-silver line that marked Seed Eater's field and headed back towards the spot he'd met Seed Eater before. The journey seemed twice as long, and his mood, which had risen imperceptibly, began to fall again. Everything hurt and they weren't going nearly fast enough, fuck his ankle. Jack, despite having both a longer stride and better feet, matched Jeff step for step. And started asking questions. Lots of questions. Jeff suspected it was to distract them both from thinking too much, and he tolerated it.

"Do you have any other bio brothers besides Liu?"

"No."

"How about sisters?"

"No."

"Um...cousins?"

"Who the hell doesn't have cousins?"

"I don't," Jack said.

"You're not human, you don't count."

"Oh. Okay. How old are you?"

"I think we've had this conversation before," Jeff said.

"Yeah, you never told me," Jack said.

"I'm seventeen."

"When's your birthday?"

"Why the hell do you care?"

"We're family, and family cares."

"Whatever." Jeff glanced at Jack from the corner of his eye, pausing for a moment. "It's January 5th."

Jack lit up. "Hey, we're the same sign. Capricorn."

"Why the hell do you know that off the top of your head?"

"When you live two hundred years," Jack said, looking over at him and shrugging. Then his eyes narrowed and he flipped around to walk backwards in front of Jeff, placing their faces close together. Jeff leaned away. "What color are your eyes?" Jack asked.

"What? Why?" Jeff asked, narrowing said eyes.

"No, open them wider," Jack said. Jeff narrowed them more, wishing he could close them just to irk Jack. "Huh. They're a weird color."

"Well if that ain't the pot calling the kettle black."

"Point," Jack conceded. "But I know what color mine are."

"Mine are hazel."

"No, they've got kind of an orangey-red color in them."

"They're _hazel_."

"No, they're-"

"They belong to me and I say they're hazel so they're hazel, dammit."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Jack said, falling back to Jeff's side.

"What's in your bag?" Jeff asked, motioning towards the duffel Jack had slung over his shoulder.

"This?" Jack asked, beaming. "This is my bag of tricks. Lots of nice things inside. I'll have to show you one of these days."

"Sure," Jeff said, looking back at the empty field. Wait-he squinted and then grinned. "Look, Jack. That's Seed Eater."

Jack looked the way Jeff pointed and tilted his head. "And it'll help us?"

"Yeah," Jeff said.

When Seed Eater spotted them, it rose onto its hind legs and said, _Bastard, you are back. This is your friend who will kill the feeders?_

_Yep, _Jeff said. _His name is Jack. Say hello, Jackie._

_Um, hello. Seed Eater. It's nice to meet you._

Seed Eater made its laughing sound again and Jack leaned away. _This is what you say will kill the feeders?_

_I assume he looks more dangerous when he's mad, _Jeff said, shrugging.

_I am mad, _Jack said.

_Oh. Well, he can kill everyone inside, _Jeff said to Seed Eater. It lowered its head and snuffled against Jack's hair. Jack held very still, raising his chin in a sort of defiance Jeff could empathize with.

_I can and I will, _Jack said. _I'll kill you, too, if that's what Jeffy wants. Show you how dangerous I am._

_Jack, Seed Eater's on our side, don't threaten it, _Jeff said.

_I'm dangerous, _Jack insisted, moving away from Seed Eater to stand in front of Jeff.

_I know, _Jeff said. _That's what I'm counting on. _He clapped his hands together and took a deep breath. _Alright. Here's our plan. Jack, you can go in first. You can't die, right?_

_Right. But Jeffy-_

_You can clear out the first wave of guards. Those'll probably be the most dangerous, since we don't know where they'll be. _

_Yeah, but Jeffy-_

_I'll break the line, Seed Eater, so you can get through. You can come inside with me. I don't want you to kill anyone, but knock them out if you can. You don't know what any of the monster-children look like, and I don't want to risk you hurting one of them. Understand?_

_Yes, Bastard. _

_No, Jeff._

Jeff cocked his head, confused. _What? Jack? _

_I said no._

Jeff glowered. _Why the hell? What's the problem? We don't have all day. _

Jack took a breath deep enough to visibly lift his shoulders and stood a little taller. _It's a good plan, Jeffy, except for one thing. I don't think it's necessary for you or Seed Eater to go inside. I can kill everyone myself. There's no need to risk you, too. _

_You're fucking kidding me._

_No. You're not going inside. _

_Is that right? _Jeff asked, balling his hands into fists. _How are you gonna stop me?_


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Seriously short chapter. I'm sorry? I'll try to have the next chapter up by Wednesday or Thursday to make up for it, but I really liked where this chapter ended. Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter Twenty-seven**: In Which Jack Doesn't Understand

_It won't be hard, _Jack said, dropping his bag onto the ground, folding grass beneath it. Rather than look smug, like Jeff expected, like Jeff himself would have looked, he appeared troubled. There was a crease between his eyes, an uneasiness in his footing. But he wasn't lying, Jeff knew that. So why did he look so uncomfortable? Did he see a disadvantage on his side Jeff didn't? Was he scared of Seed Eater? He should be scared of Seed Eater, dammit. _I'd really rather not fight about it. _Fucking right he didn't.

_So fucking sorry, _Jeff said, slinking closer to Seed Eater. _Seed Eater, keep him away from me._

_Seed Eater, stay out of it, _Jack corrected, rolling his shoulders. Seed Eater squirmed, rustling its feathers. _This is how we solve things. _I'm _the one killing the-what, feeders? Not Jeff. _

_Are you also a Slenderman-child? _Seed Eater asked. Jeff grasped its feathers and glared.

_Yes, _Jack said, nodding.

_And you will also give Slenderman a good word for me?_

_Of course. _

_You _traitor, Jeff huffed, inching around Seed Eater's back.

_Come on, Jeffy, _Jack said, pulling ropes out of his bag. _Don't be a coward. I know you're not._

Jeff was tottering on the edge of cracking. Anger, pain, grief danced around his head and nudged him towards the edge, inviting him to fall and promising it would be better when he climbed back up. He trusted them. They'd never let him down before. But-but he needed to hold it together, for his brothers. They would need him. But fuck, if it wasn't hard keeping it together with Jack urging him to jump, too.

Jack walked towards him and they circled around Seed Eater like children around a table, darting and glaring and tricking. It didn't take long for the rhythm to settle Jeff's mind some, and for him to bolt towards the cellar door. If he could just get inside, Jack would be distracted by the guards and Jeff could slaughter some himself. Jack couldn't understand the _need _Jeff had to watch the burners die at his hands, the need to taste their blood, to nurse his breaking heart with their agony.

Jack didn't understand, and even if he did, it was rapidly becoming apparent that he didn't care. Jeff got some three strides before Jack teleported and Jeff slammed into his stomach. Jeff backpedaled, but Jack pulled him closer and a rope quickly and deftly secured his wrists. Then, with all the ease of years of practice, Jack swept Jeff's feet out from under him and brought them both to the ground. He pulled Jeff into his lap and trapped his head under his arm before tying his feet. Jeff gnawed on whatever flesh he could reach, snarling and spitting like a furious cat.

Jack readjusted him so Jeff sat in his lap, growling. "There," Jack said, his voice quiet. "Sorry, Jeffy."

Jeff's breath hitched. "Fucking bastard."

Jack hugged him, tight and warm and strong, and then stood, bringing Jeff up with him. Jeff stiffened and bore his teeth and Jack carried him to Seed Eater's side before setting him down. _What are you doing? _Seed Eater asked as Jack tied Jeff to Seed Eater's leg.

_Keep him here, _Jack said. _Don't listen to anything he says unless your lives are in danger. In which case, listen to everything he says. But otherwise stay here. Don't move. You hear, Jeffy?_

Jeff hunched his shoulders. He wanted to feel angry-well, he did feel angry. Incredibly angry. But that anger was doing nothing to dampen the humiliation Jack had caused. What was he, a child? He was so fucking weak compared to Jack. What would Eyeless think? Jeff pulled his knees to his chest, almost knocking himself off balance, and rested his forehead against them. He really couldn't do anything right. The world just kept showing him that.

He just wanted Eyeless. He just fucking wanted Eyeless. If it made him weak, if it made him stupid, if it made him crazy-he wanted Eyeless back.

Jack touched the top of his head. "Jeffy?"

Jeff ignored him. Focused on not splintering into little pieces, on not jumping over that ledge, on keeping the black hole in his ribcage tapped down. Breathed.

Jack caught him around the back of the neck and pulled him forward until their foreheads touched, trying to catch his eyes. "Jeffy, it's okay, I promise."

Jeff stared at his shoes.

Jack stroked his hair down. "I'll be right back."

And then he left.

Jeff breathed.


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: So for some reason I thought that starting each chapter title with "In Which" would be a great idea. . So wrong. Now all my titles sound ridiculous. I'm sorry. **

**Chapter Twenty-eight: **In Which There is Healing

It felt like forever, sitting and breathing in silence. Realistically, it was two hours, tops. But it still made Jeff's skin crawl over his bones and his stomach roll. The whole thing was dreadfully silent when Jack left. There were four, maybe five, gunshots through the ordeal. Each one made Jeff flinch and sucked him further into grief. It was dark and cold and lonely and it terrified him. When the east sky started to quicken, Jeff saw movement at the cellar door. He glanced up enough to see that it was Jack, bloodstained but easy-footed. A kind of choking fear seized around Jeff's throat, because _now _was when he would know. _Now _was when he found out how much he should hurt inside, how viciously he should scream, how much blood he should shed. _Now _was when Jack said, "I'm sorry, Jeff, but…"

Jack knelt in front of him. "Jeffy?" Jeff held his breath and waited, looking hard at the grass. "Everybody's dead, like I said." Jack's voice was quiet, cautious, and the words made Jeff's hands flinch. "Do you want to see the others? They're all with Eyeless."

Jeff bit the inside of his cheek until he could taste blood, slick and metal. _Eyeless's body. _He opened his mouth, to ask about them, to say something-but words failed him. Jack touched his cheek. "They want to see you. They're all terrified."

_Like we could help. Look how weak we are. _That's _going to comfort them. Jack would do a better job. Eyeless would. For fuck's sake, just _ask, _just get it over with. _"Eyeless?" he asked, forcing the words through a tired, stumbling mouth.

"Yeah. You know what happened, right?"

Jeff shuddered hard enough to click his teeth together. "He's-he's-is he?" Coherent sentences failed him.

"He's hurt pretty bad. He's sleeping now."

Jeff felt his entire face loosen. His jaw wanted to drop and his eyes snapped up to look at Jack. "He's alive?" Jeff heard the shock, the sudden hope, his voice carried. His heart waited anxiously for the confirmation, preening its wings.

"Yeah, he's alive."

Jeff's heart jumped, swelling with bright joy. He laughed, grinning furiously and shaking his head in disbelief. _Eyeless. Eyeless, Eyeless. _"Well then, what are we waiting for?" he demanded, unable to tamper the giddiness in his words. "Untie me and let's _go._"

Jack grinned, although Jeff suspected he had no idea why Jeff was so happy, and complied. Jeff jumped to his feet once he was free, ignoring the protest his ankle offered. He could hardly feel it, high as he was on relief and pure, unadulterated happiness. _Eyeless. Eyeless, you fucking bastard, I love you. _He felt lighter than he ever had before and he bolted to the cellar door with Jack on his heels.

Inside the burning place, bodies littered the halls. Ignoring these, Jeff followed Jack's instructions and made his way to a large white room guarded by a large white door. He pushed through this and paused only long enough to take in the scene. Short rows of clean hospital beds and four of his wonderful, amazing, beautiful brothers. But no BEN. His eyes narrowed and his heart tripped some. "Where's BEN?"

"He's okay," Toby said. "He left through the computers. He promised he'd be back."

Jeff's entire body loosened again and he nodded, his grin returning full force. "Damn, but I love you guys."

He received three exhausted smiles as he made his way to the cot where a long gray body lay. _Eyeless. _He reached out and set his fingers against Eyeless's forehead, felt the living warmth there, and watched his chest rise and fall. _Up, down, up, down, alive, alive, alive, he's alive. _Jeff stretched out on the cot next to Eyeless and rested his hand on Eyeless's heart. _Ba-dump, ba-dump. Bastard, you scared me. _But he couldn't wipe the grin from his face as he buried it against Eyeless. Laying next to Eyeless, it was almost like the past night had never happened. The warmth, the gentle breath, it was immediate medicine to the black thing under his ribs. It couldn't kill the nagging knowledge that their fight wasn't over, yet, though. It did make it seem kind of less imporant. "How are you guys?" Jeff asked quietly, propping his head up on his elbow so he could see over Eyeless's body. "D'they burn you?"

"Yeah," Toby said.

"All of you?"

"Yeah," Toby said. "After they took you we heard the fight. But they came back for us way later. BEN escaped when they took him. After that they put us all together in a big room but we didn't know where Eyeless was until Jack broke us out and brought us here. What happened? How'd you get out?"

So Jeff briefed them. And then, when he could pry himself away from Eyeless, he looked each of them over. He bandaged Toby's hands, which he'd been chewing on, as gently as he could, and then looked at the brat's mark. It was at the base of his neck, and the skin there had been carved away and the muscle underneath burned. But the mark itself was still there, neat and darker, even, than the burnt muscle around it. Jeff clicked his tongue and placed the bandage back over it, carding his fingers through Toby's messy hair before moving towards Masky and Hoodie.

Masky looked, to Jeff's surprise, no worse for wear than the others. He sat still and calm while Jeff looked at his and Hoodie's marks. He tugged insistently on Jeff's jean leg when he noticed Jeff was limping. "I was thinking the same thing," Jack chimed from behind them. "Jeffy, let me see your leg."

Jeff glared and petted Masky's and Hoodie's hair. "I'm still mad at you," he said.

"Oh, don't ruin the moment," Jack said. "Just come lay up here."

Masky pushed on Jeff's back until he huffed and crawled up onto the cot Jack motioned at. He refused to lay down, though. That was just asking too much of him. Jack worked his shoe off and Jeff grit his teeth because it felt like the act twisted his ankle around the bullet. After pulling Jeff's pant leg up, Jack turned to look at the youngest three of their group and asked, "Do we have any clean clothes around here?" He looked back towards Jeff. "It'd be more comfortable, at least."

"There's some in the barn," Jeff said. He realized his mistake when Toby walked towards the door. "_No_," he snarled. Toby froze mid-step. "Away from the door." Toby backed away from the door. "Sit." Toby sat. "Stay." Toby nodded. "We stay together from now on. Nobody goes anywhere without everybody. Alright?"

"Jeffy-"

Jeff glared at Jack. "You can do whatever the fuck you want, but they're staying with me."

Jack looked at him for a long minute, and then bobbed his head in agreement. "Alright. So what happened to your ankle?"

"They shot me," Jeff said. "Low caliber, at least. Entry only. The bullet's stuck in the bone."

Jack grimaced. "I have no idea what to do."

"Eyeless will. Wait until he wakes up," Jeff said.

"Sounds like a plan. But I'm gonna clean it at least." Jack set about dumping disinfectant over the wound, probing it for no damn reason, and wrapping it in a tight bandage. Jeff set his jaw and measured his breaths. The sympathetic pats Jack offered his leg did very little to help. When Jack finished, he stepped back and frowned. "Take your shirt off."

"Make me," Jeff snapped. But he peeled it off even as he said it, because the blood was crusty and rubbed against his skin and he knew some of it was Eyeless's and that creeped him out. He dropped his shirt onto the floor and stretched.

"Go to sleep," Jack suggested.

"That's _my _line, don't touch it," Jeff muttered, but he crept back to Eyeless's side.

"Maybe you should sleep on a different cot," Jack said. Jeff bore his teeth. "I mean, you don't want to hurt him if you move around." Jeff pushed another cot right up against Eyeless's and lay on it, reaching through the bars to touch Eyeless's chest where it rose and fell with beautiful consistency. He covered his eyes with his arm and tried to shut his mind down.

"Everybody stays here," he murmured. He received four affirmatives and allowed himself to sleep.


End file.
